Impalpable Attraction
by Yellow-Sama
Summary: Her cheeks flushed a rosy shade as he lifted a hand to caress her face. He leaned in so closely that she could almost taste his cologne. Who said that it's better to have loved and lost? Adult!RebornxOC, smidges of Adult!RebornxLuce.
1. Prologue

Maybe I'm hopelessly convincing myself: He'll come, just you wait! He'll open the front door and he'll pick you up with his strong wide arms. "I'm home," he'll say with his usual grin that sends tingles down to your toes and back up to your spine. You're supposed to smile with tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes and whisper a "welcome" back.

But life isn't like that.

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Impalpable Attraction

_A Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn Fanfiction_

**Disclaimer**: Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-Sama.

**Song Inspiration**: _Up Against the Wall – Boys Like Girls_

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There are nights I can't sleep. My eyes feel like dead weights but I can't fall unconscious; it's too hard for me.

Laying on my bed and staring at the ceiling until it's already one in the early morning; I just realize how small I am when I bury my face into the comforters to stifle my onslaught of grief. It's cold and it leaves me having this empty void of nothing.

I'm frustrated, you know.

It's not the fact that I'll accept his sweet advances as he breaks down my barrier of rage and it's something more than knowing that he might not even come back.

I can't go to where he is and I can't be with him. We're apart from each other and it's unbearable. I'm stupid. I know that I should sever these ties but I don't want to let go. These cheesy contradictory emotions mess around with my head and I hate it.

Damn it…

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_Once the truth comes out, it's painful. But what doesn't hurt us, right? _

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**Yellow-Sama Says… **There are a lot of fanfiction in this fandom that follow the same kind of story and like everyone else; I just wanted to try it out for myself actually. …Yes, I'm guilty as charged, but hey, this idea is very tempting, no?


	2. Chapter 1

It was like any other morning that I'd woken up to, it held no significant meaning.

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**Disclaimer**: Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-Sama.

**Song Inspiration**: Everyday – Ten Second Epic feat. Lights

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It's hard not to be bored when every moment of your life is repeating itself over and over like a broken record.

My fingers felt the familiarity of the button on the tiny contraption that was my camera. The shutter clicked, there was a bright flash as the image of the horrific destruction and desolate streets were ensnared into memory. The "war" waged on the streets raged onward for about half a month or so, but maybe, probably it started beforehand, unbeknownst to individuals like me.

I could just tell because he was always in every photograph I took of previous battlegrounds. A tall slim man clothed in solid darkness, adorned with a fedora hat upon his head and a suit. He was a constant shadow or better yet, the perfect stain on the backdrop of my work. I nicknamed him, "_la commare secca_".

The humidity in the air hung heavily, making it harder to breathe. The skies darkened ominously as if the heavens itself would cry in anguish. Furious gusts blew a sickeningly warm breeze onto my face, leaving burning sensations on my skin; I only held my manila folder tightly to my breast and cursed underneath my breath for what seemed the fifth time in a row.

Damn stupid last minute assignments and crap deadlines…But at least my Boss finally cleaned out his ears to finally hear me out about the infinite truth about the radical group who used a crucifix as their signature emblem. News on the streets, entangled with rumors and illusions called the syndicate, "_Sentenza_".

My boots scraped across the ground as I practically dragged myself to the office, attempting to hide my obvious frustrations with a "light" smile. Needless to say, no one really cared too much.

A hand gripped onto my shoulder in a steady grip and jerked my body to a complete halt. I stumbled over my own two feet; klutz. Turning my head to gaze backward, I studied the man holding me. Standing at five foot ten or an inch higher with thick tufts of blonde curls and a pair of moss green irises, the man inquired, "Signora Amaranta Russo?"

I took a mental back track for a second, leaving my mouth gaping open in mid-response. Who was this guy? Was he some newbie photographer Boss decided to throw in my direction, an acquaintance of Grandpa's or even worse, some deranged stalker? Automatically, I zipped my lips tightly together and avoided eye contact by staring at the ground. Oh boy… How would I get out of this predicament? Answer truthfully, swear him off and play the oblivious citizen card or…

I blinked and noted the silver glint of the chain hanging from his coat pocket. A small crucifix dangled on the end of the chain and my eyes widened. The nerves in my brain blazed like wildfire, warning me to get the hell away from this guy as fast as I could immediately.

My feet shuffled backward slightly and the man's large hand grabbed me around the scruff of my neck in a death grip. Blinking my eyes quickly, I struggled to pull at his hand, blocking my air circulation like a metal clamp. Shit, the sick bastard smiled down at me with cold eyes, glittering in pure enjoyment as he suffocated me. My legs kicked out at the man but he didn't budge, damn masochist.

It never occurred to me that I was liable to die in this kind of way, but then again, I suppose I knew something this retarded would happen to me. I guessed I would be treated like dirt because of my profession and no, I didn't plan on dying in the first place, not until I was in my late eighties at least.

My eyesight blurred inward and out. Damn it.

I was dropped like a heavy stone into a pool of cleansing cold water as I gasped for air in the few moments I had before my back was pressed into the built torso of the freak who wanted to kill me.

It was hazy but I could still recognize that it was really him. "_La commare secca_"; of all people, who wears all black like he did?

He mouthed disjointed mumbled words I couldn't formulate in my head perfectly when he pointed a green pistol at us. A rumbling vibration reverberated in my ears made origin from the chest of the guy who held me prisoner; obviously, whatever the grim reaper said pissed this jerk off.

I was thrown forward before I realized it and crashed landed on the cement, causing myself injury. A single gun shot, and then there was nothing. I looked up; the blonde must have run off since I didn't see a dead carcass anywhere.

I rose up with the help of my knees and arms, standing up awkwardly, trying to keep balance.

"Thank…"

The grim reaper spoke, "You shouldn't be thanking me just yet."

I stared somewhat helplessly at the gun barrel in my line of vision.

…You've got to be kidding me.

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**Yellow-Sama Says… **Finally a new update, thanks to **kuro-30fyre **and **EvilBoyzR2Cute** for taking the time to review the prologue, the persons who decided to watch/favorite this fanfiction and last but not least, the silent anonymous readers out there who just happened to peek in.


	3. Chapter 2

Things seemed pretty unstable like a fragile house constructed out of playing cards. It only took one little subtle movement before it all toppled down.

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**Disclaimer**: Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-Sama.

**Song Inspiration**: Run This Town – Jay-Z feat. Rihanna & Kanye West

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Today's moral: never assume anything… especially if some guy happens to save you from a big ol' thug and you inevitably call him your hero. Yet, as it turns out, "Mister Hero" actually wants to kill you. I ask, what were the odds? Then again, he has got to be a part of the mafia (sigh, can't get anymore obvious then that).

I didn't know if I was supposed to "freak out and then beg my way out" or to just stare stupidly at the cold hard muzzle of the gun pointed in between my eyes.

…Am I strange for not reacting the "right" way?

Maybe I was nervous, moreover, petrified by shock to do anything remotely intelligent to save my sorry ass. I'm guessing I was tired.

…

Yep, maybe that was it.

"Could you pull that away from my face," The words somehow managed to slip past my tongue, "It's making me feel uncomfortable."

In response, the reaper grabbed me by the collar of my coat, I yelped from the sudden jerk and he ever so _lightly_ jabbed the green gun underneath my chin. From where I could see underneath his fedora, his charcoal eyes glittered sharply with a "Shut-up-or-I-blow-your-brains-out" warning; boy, did he know how to charm a girl.

"Better," I never realized how smooth his voice was; it reminded me of something, something like melted velvety dark chocolate.

I couldn't believe I stuttered, "W-well..."

There was an earsplitting screech of rolling tires approaching from the distance; the reaper's sharp eyes flickered toward the streets. Removing the pistol from my face, I had the chance to sigh in relief right before the reaper decided to clutch onto my right wrist.

"We're going for a little walk," He stated.

Ha! It wasn't much of a stroll in the park mind you, but more like a damn marathon to god knows where! If the guy wasn't tugging at me in his nerve numbing death grip, I know I would have collapsed right from exhaustion at the get go. The cobbled streets were killing me with my heels on. I must have looked like one hell of a mess with my hair sticking out everywhere, pretty much like stray strands of straw in a hay stack and my makeup smudged over my burning complexion.

The reaper glanced idly in my direction and chuckled, "Hm, you're in pretty good shape."

That bastard…

We kept on with his brisk pace and I was highly annoyed by the fact that I was gasping for air, while, he didn't even break a sweat! I was this close to punching his face in when he continued to lead me astray and into a small street bazaar. The noises and loud sounds did not comfort me in the slightest as the crowds of passerby just squished me closer to the death god. I actually didn't notice it before when I wasn't pressed into his chest, but he actually smelled good. His coat faintly held the scent of coffee, it was nice.

Then, the gunshots sprang, echoing in the distance. Doors closed shut, stalls left abandoned and peoples' screaming polluted the air with hysteria and confusion for a few moments. His grip tightened and before I let out a silent cry, we were off running in the waves of people. Everything was happening so fast with the air searing my cheeks and the surrounding sounds rushing through my brain until I could hear nothing else, kicking the chemical adrenaline in my veins into overdrive again.

Panic, panic and more panic. I couldn't muster the courage to turn around; all I could think about now was to haul my ass out of there. I know… Some people might have been pierced by a bullet, plummeting to the ground wounded or worse. My mind was a complete blank as fear seeped under my skin and my heart was pounding way too fast for my breath to compensate enough oxygen for my lungs; it was as if I was drowning. The sun was beating down on us and for a moment, everything started to slow. Light beams seemed to bounce off the walls of stone that enclosed around us as we both squeezed into a small narrow street alley. Maybe it was the play of the sun's beams because it was so hot.

Yup, evidently enough, that was when my natural gift of clumsiness finally kicked in last minute, forcing me to tumble, then scramble back to my feet while moving. He noticed; I'm pretty sure he did, since he didn't look exactly pleased. The death god only shoved me forward with the hand that was clamped over my wrist, forcing my movements to accelerate. I was finally liberated!

I wondered though… If I had been more careful in the first place, would I still have had the chance to separate like this from him?

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**Yellow-Sama says…** Thank you to **amsharp** for reviewing the last chapter I've updated. As well as thank you to you, dear reader or new comer for reading this new installment. Until the next one~


	4. Chapter 3

The world is staring me down and I'm nothing but an insignificant piece of a much larger puzzle. Whether I happen to fit or not, whether I am destroyed, disappearing into nothing... I don't think I even need the world.

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**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: **Fuck You – Lily Allen

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I vividly remember the first time I honestly told someone about my troubles. There was this jerk, "Z", who was like any other annoying brat at my elementary school. Constantly teasing me day in and out, until I decided to listen to the voice over in the child abuse commercial on television that told me to get help.

So, I got a bit of advice from Nonno on my mother's side and sucker punched the jackass until I saw his blood coating my knuckles.

... I regret ever asking for help, so why now?

I just thought the situation desperately called upon the aid of the authorities. Like any reasonable person, I trudged over to the police station with my wobbly legs dragging me up the stairs to the entrance.

"Pft! Are you serious? No way," The blonde officer's tenor voice quaked, trying to stifle back the hysterical laughter erupting from his throat. He barely even glanced, let alone touched my report on his desk.

The brunette officer reasoned with his partner, "Carlo! Be 'fraid of Ms Russo's warnings, yah 'ear? Or the BIG BAD Sentenza will come afta yah in yah sleep, if yah don't! Woo~"

Unprofessional bastards...

The blonde wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, "Ah, c'mon Ms Russo! We're only kidding you!"

"I'm sure you are," I peered down at the name plate on his desk, "... Officer Gandenza, but this is an emerg-"

The brunette, Officer Marciano interrupted, "S'hard tah believe you when yah don't have no evidence, yeah."

He opened his desk drawer for a cobalt blue lighter and a cigarette. The flame glowed mockingly before lighting the cancer stick in between his teeth, "How'd we know you ain't lyin' tah us?"

My fingers tightly clenched my pencil skirt in anger, bunching up the fabric in my hands.

Why the hell would I come all the way here, make a fricken' ridiculous story and mess up my hair and shit beforehand to get you to believe me? And how the hell would I benefit from lying to your damn ugly face in the first place? Honestly, who the fuck decided that it was okay to hire these two shitty fucktards?

Officer Gandenza smacked his partner behind his head with a clipboard and _kindly_ added, "We don't think you're lying to us, Ms. Russo, but we do need the evidence."

It wasn't the lack of evidence that was my only problem; the cold hard fact of the matter was **that person** had the balls to steal my special front cover news story of the century from my grasp! It didn't help that I was a walking target for a bunch of murderous diabolical maniacs who'd do anything to have my head on a silver platter.

"Humph," Officer Marciano took my silence as a response, "You got nuthin' yeah? Hah! Figures."

My lids fluttered shut, taking a breath and exhaling slowly, "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

...You damn asshole.

Yeah, I didn't bother staying because it was a fucking waste of my time and I didn't want to leave with a stupid migraine that I didn't deserve. I slipped past the crowded desks and groups of idle police men to get to the exit. The stuffiness of nicotine smoke, sweat and the summer heat was unbearable, making me feel nauseous and slightly bitchier than normal.

The air was cold on my sticky skin and the cobbled ground had darkened patches from the passing shower. There were tiny puddles formed in the cracks and orifices of the streets and the noises of the city echoed in my ear drums. The sun was peeking out from the clouds in the sky and I took my first step off the premises, to trip over a broken heel. Piece of cheap shit!

I tipped over onto my right, almost slipping off the stairs and nearly twisted my foot. That would have hurt like I bitch later on if I didn't hold onto the rail like I did. The only wound I had to deal with was my sore butt, god, I hope I didn't bruise.

Lifting my foot up, I slipped off my heeled shoe and then its twin on my opposite foot. Looks like I'm going to be trudging it barefoot, I winced at the feeling of the hot moist streets on the soles of my feet; I was still wearing pantyhose, but it was still unpleasant.

Two blocks away was my little apartment, the typical modern apartment with big thick grey bricks for walls. It wasn't anything special, but it was cheap and homey; just how I liked it.

I pushed past the wooden door without ever realizing that it was left open a crack.

I simply stared at the sight before me, dropping my heels without a second thought.

My white bed sheets were ripped to shreds and strewn carelessly across the wooden floor. The pillows, mattress and bed frame were flipped onto their side, papers were scattered here and there and not to forget, my wooden desk drawers were cracked with its contents spilling out. My closet door was wide open and wrinkled clothes lay there on the floor like trash left on the streets. Like a tornado, followed by an angry mob of villagers from the distant mountainous country regions who decided to trash up my sanctuary, I silently shed an invisible tear.

Padrona di casa Stefani wouldn't like this one bit.

I reluctantly marched over to the remains of my desk, staring at the ripped copies of photographs at my feet. It hurt to see my belongings in this manner, especially one's work destroyed like this. I kneeled down, slowly collecting the pieces and clenched them in between my fingers before throwing them into the trash bin in my washroom.

It didn't come to me as a surprise when I saw the mess there.

Fuck.

I grumbled underneath my breath as I reluctantly fixed up the leftovers of my bedroom. Bending upon my knees and lifting up the desk drawers, I shoved them back into their slots in the desk. I winced and looked down at my finger and noticed I was bleeding.

Honestly...

I felt something press against the middle of my back. It was cold and my nerves ran up and down my spine as if I was lit on fire.

"Hand over the negatives," The gruff voice growled and I didn't respond to him quickly enough, so I was kicked from behind, landing on my elbows, "NOW!"

I groaned and got to my feet. I was met with the muzzle pointed at my temple, the dark brunette's finger curled around the trigger.

I lifted up a chair that was on its side from the floor and dragged it underneath the ceiling light.

Damn it, I was shaking. My heart thumped heavily in my chest, pounding turrets of life's blood through my veins. The only thing I could hear was my panicked breath in my ear drums.

"Hurry up." My insides jumped at his order, my hands, coated with a thin layer of anxiety.

I lifted myself up onto the chair, my legs trembling. My hands reached up to grab at the tiny container in the bowl shaped lamp hanging on the ceiling. Feeling the plastic on my fingers, I grasped it tightly in my hand and slowly descended from the chair.

I turned to gaze at the tall man with the ominous light coloured eyes. Placing the negatives into his grasp and waited.

His smile was so gentle, hiding away the demonic persona behind such a light carefree disposition. His types were the ones I hated the most. I couldn't muster a defiant glare nor could I fix a neutral expression on my face, I could tell, he loved the way he brought the gleaming shine of fear in my eyes.

He slipped the negatives into his breast pocket and lifted the mussel of the gun toward the ceiling.

"I'll give you five second head start."

I turned, running out of the apartment and into the dark silent night.

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**Yellow-Sama Says... **Now, I can take the time to answer some questions by two new reviewers, **Buziwuzi** and **10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat**. Thank you for the reviews by the way.

First off, Amaranta is a reporter; I picture her to be the type who takes pictures than an actual journalist though. There is actually a hint I placed in the chapter that will tell you the era of which Impalpable Attraction is set. Another thing, I'll add is that it's in the past.

In the first chapter, Amaranta was referring to Reborn who she does feel attracted to in the third chapter. This attraction isn't love per say, more like a certain sense of dislike; but as they say, there's a fine distinction between love and hate.

Until the next update.


	5. Chapter 4

Oh lost little lamb, where are you headed? So cold and alone, will you fall unknowingly into the hands of the one they call, "death"?

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**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: **Who's there – Persona 4 OST

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Shit, shit, SHIT. It has finally hit the fan!

The streets were uncharacteristically dark at this hour, usually there would be some random drunkards stumbling in on the corners or leaning against lamp posts or something!

My legs were about to buckle over and take me down with them. To make matters worse, it was fucking freezing! But, I guess I was retarded enough to be running around in the night with a restraining piece of cloth wrapped around my upper thighs and flimsy pantyhose covering my bare feet.

The lights were barely lit on the street, were they broken?

I didn't know where the hell I was going; heck, why it never occurred to me of what was going on in front of me until it finally bitch slapped me in the face, I'd never know.

...I blame it on that **guy**.

Where were the horny couples running a mock? Or the stupid police men? Where the hell was everyone?

My feet were collecting blisters down to the tiniest pinkie toe and I was gulping down air too quickly, I ended choking down on my non-existent saliva. My lips were chapped and my throat hurt. My nerves were going high wire, sending spurts of pins and needles down my spine.

Why wasn't...!

I knew he was lagging behind, but the thought of him catching up made my heart stop. My stomach lurched every second, leaving a heavy emptiness in my chest. I turned into a narrow alley and stuck myself against the wall, scurrying through the tiny pathway into the next street. My back pressed along the rough bricks of the building before the walls between the buildings widened. I pushed myself off, trying to gain a bit more distance.

The whistle echoed shrilly, maliciously stabbing at my subconscious, yelling at me to get away.

The blood rushing through me thudded in my ear drums and...

There was a metallic clang that resounded in the silence. Before I knew it, I was on the ground. I landed on my forearms and knees, scrapping my skin red. I think I may have even ruined my pantyhose and I liked the pair I was wearing! I lifted myself slowly, gagging at the smell of crap caked on my clothes.

...What was that?

I swerved my head to the piercing sound of someone whistling something down the way I came.

Damn it...!

I picked myself off the ground and nearly stumbled again over the stupid trashcan. I pressed on; trying to find any sign of anyone at all that could help me. But I couldn't cry out, my voice lost to me. It would have been stupid, I'd die faster.

Dying... It never occurred to me of how I would die. I'd know one day that I'd leave this world behind, but I didn't know when or where. To close my eyes and drift off, leaving everything behind... Even if I didn't have much, I had Nonno.

Could I leave him alone like this...?

The tickling sensation of something leaking down my legs was irksome to me, but I ignored it. I couldn't focus on whether or not I still looked remotely presentable; god, there had to be someone out on the town!

My feet scrambled onto the next street and I blinked.

The open expanse where the dark was waiting for me was something that scared me. I couldn't shake off the feeling, that feeling of knowing I was about to breathe my last.

The whistling was growing closer and closer.

Fuck...!

Warm tears began to overflow and burn my eyes, I felt like screaming. I didn't have enough time to wipe the tears of frustration from my eyes; I was too busy trying to stretch my hands into the dark to find anything.

A loud crack of a bullet whizzing through the air and I ducked towards the ground. I clamped my mouth shut, biting down on my lip to stop the racking sobs from being uttered out. My hands covered my mouth, stifling my breathing. I curled my body, trying to make myself small. It was a useless attempt to protect myself on my part.

This was it. I was going to die and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

My eyes closed instinctively and it was daunting to hear the pure silence. Anxiety wrapped itself around me, coiling around my body tightly and my tears spilled.

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**Yellow-Sama Says...** Thanks so much to **10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat** and two new reviewers, **builtbymachines** and **kira86**, for reviewing the last chapter. Although it takes me forever to update, I appreciate your comments and yes, songs really do have the great effect of helping me write out a chapter.

I have to say that this chapter was really difficult to write and I think I may have sped through it too fast. So, if there are any ugly errors, you can tell me.

Until the next update.


	6. Chapter 5

…Was this the end?

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**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: ** Heartbeat – Joe Hisaishi

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I didn't know what to think. My mind blanked out on me and I just felt relieved… I guess. When I woke up, I wasn't outside bleeding to death which was a good thing. I was laid out on a bed that wasn't mine and I was inside a room that wasn't mine. I'm sure you know where I'm going with this, but I don't give a rat's ass anymore. As long as I'm not dead, I figure that was the most important thing. Although I'd usually freak out more than **this**, I did just go through an almost per say death experience and maybe, the fact hasn't hit me yet.

Everything was sore and my head felt like it was about to split wide open, sort of like the hangover feeling that hurts worse than the incessant screaming of a chauvinistic editor on his bitchy rant because someone couldn't just drop the whole case about Sentenza and about _him_.

...Well, fuck that shit. Said person could do whatever the hell she pleased, at least she got her work done since she was the only person to be working fucking full time.

The crust covering the lids of my eyes was annoying, so I scraped it away with my bandaged fingers. I looked over my hand raised above my head; it was weird to just study my hand since I'd never taken the time to do that before. My arm was growing heavier by the second and I just let it float down to the mattress, palm facing upward toward the ceiling.

There was a cold sensation crawling up my right arm… What the f-!

EW, EW, EW, EW, EW!

My body squirmed around as if I was possessed after I spotted the green lizard thing dragging its lithe scaly disgusting body over my skin. Frantically, I try and shake the thing off my arm, but it was like it was glued onto me!

"No need to overreact, he won't hurt you," I shouldn't have bothered to crane my neck since it was my saviour walking over to the bed.

I don't give a shit whether or not this THING would do anything, just GET IT OFF ME.

Dark charcoal eyes peered down at me with a pompous kind of look. My lips were chapped which technically meant that he was lucky enough to not be berated by me. He brought his hand over to the lizard that climbed up his arm, dragging its long body up to the top of his shoulder. I couldn't help but shudder at the sight.

I kind of found it ironic for him to be the one to save me; the nameless death reaper who acted the role as the villain and then the hero. ...He clearly needed to straighten out his priorities.

He leaned in, bringing his face closer to mine, "But I can."

I surprised myself by not flushing at his proximity and my eyes met his challenging gaze instead, "Then why haven't you?"

His eyes flickered, revealing that he was taken aback. But then this minor change reverted into his neutral stone faced expression which soon melted into a wicked smirk, "Where would the fun be in that?"

Ah... He's the sadistic bastard type; just my luck.

"I know I am," His eyes glittered dangerously down at me, "But I wonder if you should really say something like that to the person who'll snuff the little life you have left in you."

"I d-didn't...what?" Wait, did he just read my mind...? The fucking hell, was he a mind reader or something?

He chuckled and I couldn't help but blush at the sound. ...Ah hah, now I manage a damn blush. I was going to shift my head to the side, so that I would be looking away from him. I didn't want him to have the satisfaction of making me feel uncomfortable...again. Once I thought about it, the notion of even turning away was a useless one, I mean; of course he'd know for sure that I was...

"Flustered?" He was still leering at me, mocking me in my current state. The damn fucker...!

I huffed and saw red, "Could you **please** quit doing that?"

"You're just too easy read," He lifted himself so that he was no longer encroaching on my personal space. Gosh, was I glad that he moved away... but I also felt almost disappointed? I blinked, oh god, what the hell was I thinking?

There was an empty bit of silence between us before I had to break the calm, "What's going to happen to me?"

"...What do you think is going to happen?" I stared up at the ceiling, spotting the bits of chipped paint a meter away from the light. The room must have been pretty old, which obviously meant that I was in an old building.

I didn't want to think anymore.

I sighed, bringing my arm to cover my eyes. I felt sleepy, my eyes were blinking rapidly before growing heavier and heavier with each blink. My eyes were closing and I could feel my hunched shoulders relax into the firm mattress. I liked firm mattress over the comfy squishy kind, although I don't know why I do. I just do.

"Well?"

I responded without having to look up at "_la commare secca_".

"You haven't killed me yet... So I guess you still have some use for me..." I licked my lips before continuing, but the liquid saliva did little to help part my chapped lips, "Or you might be kind enough to kill me in my sleep. I don't know."

He snorted lightly, "Not bad guesses at all."

I unconsciously smiled, "So I either live to work for you or die peacefully, huh."

"That's correct," I didn't even notice the other person enter the room. But then again, I am partially deaf after all.

Opening my eyes, I glance over to the new visitor of the room. He was a young thirty-ish year old with slightly wild light brown hair pushed back with a curl in the middle of his forehead and dressed in a clean smart black suit. As he approached the bed, I could see that his eyes were the shade of a deep brown. They didn't hold an aggressive gaze, just slightly an intimidating and yet friendly one at the same time. He settled himself by sitting on the edge of the bed.

Unlike being in the company of the _other one_, this man gave out a calming presence that still made me uneasy.

"Greetings Ms. Russo, my name is Timoteo."

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**Yellow-Sama Says... ** Thanks to **10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat** for always reviewing each chapter and new readers, **Ashj**, **Megi Keishii** and **Something Written** for reviews, I'll try my best to update more frequently this holiday break! To answer Megi Keishii's question in their review, Amaranta messed up terribly with her line of work since she finally got the attention of the Sentenza due to her coverage over the existence of the crime syndicate and the Vongola, too.


	7. Chapter 6

Having one chance to make a change, would you roll the dice? Even if you should fail, will you still be able to pay the price?

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**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: ** HOWLING – Abingdon Boys School.

* * *

What determines _luck_? I'd have to say that it depends on whether or not you believe in that kind of stuff, like me, I mean, I have a bad case of bad luck. Fuck, I've never had a day where I could consider myself lucky.

He told me his name was Timoteo, was it supposed to ring a bell? I sure didn't think so. Besides, the fact that it was an Italian name, I didn't give a shit. I suspected that he was obviously a buddy to "_la commare secca_"; he dressed well and was damn hot too. I mentally bitch slapped myself, while muttering under my breath about the fact that I was too observant.

The _other _one snorted, "Don't worry so much, you're not good enough for the Ninth boss of the Vongola."

I wanted to punch his lights ou... Hold on.

Timoteo...He was the Ninth boss... of the Vongola family no less? ...Aw crap.

"Reborn," Timoteo gave the man a look and _la commare secca_ remained unfazed, but you could tell the dark death reaper accepted the gesture of the Mafioso boss with great respect.

Timoteo's smile sweetened considerably and gently took my hand in his own, "There's nothing to be too scared about, Ms. Russo."

Psh! It's a bit late to be saying that...!

"I know, I've put you into a difficult situation," His deep brown irises pierced into my eyes and locked my soul within a heavy iron grip, leaving me with a cool shuddering sensation running through my nerves, "But you have to make the decision yourself, Ms. Russo. Will you comply with my request?"

...Or risk being killed off by the hands of professional murderers?

**Were these choices supposed to make me feel better?**

My free hand clenched the bed sheet tightly and I was hopelessly thinking, trying to think of ways to escape the situation. But there was no place left to run. I felt like I was trapped on spinning cups, spinning round and round forever with the center plate burning my skin with an unbearable heat.

What could I do...?

I couldn't get out. It's like the moment before your eyes could pinpoint the light and make you see the blurred shapes of the objects in a room. You're blindsided and there was nothing you could do but focus your eyes attentively on something, anything at all.

The room was silent, save for the sounds of the breath of each person in the room, but I knew, it was my own panicked gasps that filled the room.

"Choose," The voice of the man clothed in darkness echoed in my ears, "or would you rather I do it for you?"

I viciously shook my head from side to side.

Then I spoke and didn't realize that my voice was cracking due to the sobs spilling out from my lips, "I... just... I want to live."

Timoteo's smile became warmer, "That's the answer I wanted to hear."

I don't think there was any real help in my situation, but I guess I don't regret making the choice I made. At least for the most part, I'm still alive, even if I'm under the watch of the most powerful mafia in the country.

"So, what happens now?"

* * *

The car stops just right out front of my apartment building and I step through the threshold, up the stairs to my room, number thirty-seven. Thank god I wasn't wearing my broken heels, but it was a bitch to climb up the stairs with loose slippers. Opening the door with the key that I keep in my breast pocket, I enter the room and it's as messy as I've left it... maybe even worse.

My legs trudge through the clothes scattered on the ground and I bring my arm to open up the wardrobe, to dig out my luggage. Having a bit of difficulty pulling the large gray bag from the bottom compartment of the wooden chest, I pretty much dropped the dusty thing onto the ground.

_I was surprised to find that la commare secca was the one to fill me in, "How fast can you pack your things?" _

"_Where am I going?" I look up to Timoteo to find some kind of answer._

_He replied, "Not too far, just the next city over. You'll be staying with an acquaintance of mine. You'll be safe there." _

That was the end of our little conversation before he left the room with _la commare secca_ who were talking to one another privately outside the bedroom. I didn't bother trying to listen in, I was too fed up.

The Vongola boss somehow forgot to mention that I'd be indebted to him... quite literally. I actually wondered how much I owed him. A lot I would guess, but even then, I don't think that I could really pay him back.

Timoteo... or should I say the Ninth paid off my boss who I'm sure was glad that he could drop me and is most likely celebrating the fact that I wouldn't be working for him anymore. But fuck, I was so fucking frustrated that I lost that job! I worked my ass off to get to where I was, even if I had a measly pay and worked over time all the time, I still liked working as a photo journalist.

Now, there was this huge ass gap in my life with absolutely nothing to fill the void.

I fling my clothes into the large bag, not even caring in the slightest that my clothes would get even more wrinkled, but who was I going to impress my new landlady?

Apparently, the Ninth also paid off the damages made in my apartment and paid off Padrona di casa Stefani, so I had just today to clean out the room and be gone with the wind. I thought it was hard to imagine living a life where everything I built and everything I worked for could disappear so quickly.

Shit, I got something in my eye.

I take a moment to wipe away the stray tears from my eyes, before _he_ came in to see the progress I was making.

"Are you done yet?" He pompously entered the room, kicking my clothes aside with his foot and creating a pathway into the room for himself.

...Did it look like I was done? I wanted to say out loud, but I didn't bother wasting my breath for someone like him. He wasn't blind, I'm almost certain that he could see perfectly fine, so the jerk was just pointing out the obvious to be fucking annoying.

Plus, if you're wondering why _he_'s here, the Ninth assigned him to be like... a bodyguard of mine. It wasn't hard to figure out that he was only there in my room to escort me to my destination and to keep a watchful eye on me for the time being.

"Hmm..." He is thinking over something he's seen in my room, but I am focused on jamming all my clothes into my luggage. I just packed in my winter jacket, autumn sweaters and spring long sleeve shirts. There are just some pieces of jewellery and my summer ensembles left to pack in that old bag.

"I wouldn't suspect you to be a B34; I always seemed to think you were an A." All I could see is red and I could almost feel the comical steam rushing out from my ears.

I stand up abruptly, pivot on one foot and immediately yank the pale cream nude brassiere out of his hand and acid hisses out each syllable being spouted out from my lips, "Don't. Touch. My. Things."

His charcoal eyes gazes blankly into my own. If he's thinking of scaring me with a little death glare or something, he has another thing coming. Instead, he approaches me like a silent shadow and towers over me.

His voice is emotionless and his words are spoken with a severe tone, slicing through the air I'm breathing, "Don't assume I'll follow **your** orders."

I couldn't help but shudder unconsciously. I look down at the ground, turn around and go back to stuffing the crap out of my luggage. I don't feel like repeating the fiasco of our first official meeting.

His soundless footsteps glide to the window of the apartment and once he's out of earshot, I begin my grumbling rant under my breath. Shitty no good sonofa...

"Work faster," He orders from across the room. Leaning against the wooden frame to peer down at the urban life below, his arms cross his chest and that _green thing_ is on the top of his fedora hat.

Work faster my ass! I like my pace, thank you very much.

I jam the last of my undergarments into the sleeve pockets of the bag and I plop myself on top of the luggage to make sure it wouldn't suddenly blow up from its over-stuffing. Thankfully, it didn't, which meant that my clothes and such are safe. I wipe the tiny remnants of perspiration from my brow, a job well...

"You must feel awfully proud," His condescending voice interrupts my thoughts, "It took you long enough, let's go."

Sadistic and bossy, he definitely fits my idealistic profile for a boyfriend.

...I didn't just think that. I didn't mean that I thought that he... I'm being sarcastic, get it together Amaranta!

_La commare secca_ exits the apartment first, having taken my luggage from my hands since he thinks that I couldn't carry it. I look back at the empty room, thinking back to how it looked like when I was still living in it. My legs felt like lead and I didn't want to move from my spot, right in front of the doorway to the apartment. I would miss this place like crazy; it was my first home away from home. This room was my beginning to my urban city life. Closing the door behind me, I realize how hard it must have been for Nonno when I left the house. My memories are all that is left in my old apartment and they would stay there, even though everything has been stripped clean of my existence.

"Goodbye." I murmur softly.

I plant my apartment key in Padrona di casa Stefani's mail box since her tiny office was dark and she obviously wasn't home. I suspect that she was off grocery shopping or something. I never bothered to get to know her.

I exit the building and walk over to the car with the engine running. As expected, he's already patiently waiting in the driver's seat, tapping his slim fingers away on the wheel to a melody I'm not familiar with. I circle to the opposite side to the front passenger seat and it starts sprinkling from the heavens. It is oddly fitting in this situation and not to mention really cliché.

The rhythmic dance of the raindrops pounding onto the car reverberates into a soothing melody and attempts to sing me to sleep like a little lullaby. The water streams down the windows, the raindrops running separate courses until the tiny droplets meld together and create larger ones. The windshield wipers shook to life, swinging left to right then right to left in a repetitive pattern. Soon afterwards, I find my eyes are closing shut. I'm drifting softly away into a quiet place, without any care in the world. I just want to sleep, even for a little while.

But like I said, my luck is shit.

Unexpectedly, my body is jerked forward roughly that the air is practically ripped away from my lungs with the seatbelt clenching tightly against my chest. I am quickly slammed back into my chair and I am gasping for air like a fish out of water. Fuck...! What the hell was that? I struggle to turn my head around to see the damn fucker who bumped into us from the back, but his hand presses against my body back into the car seat.

"Just sit back," His eyes darkened considerably as he looked towards his side, glaring at the mirror attached at the front, "This is going to get rough."

I could just slap myself for the shrill childish voice erupting from my throat, "W-what, why?"

"Some old friends of yours want to play a game with us," The green lizard drops down from the death reaper's fedora and squirms down his arm into his free hand.

Friends...? He's got to be kidding!

I watch as the lizard glows a white light and transforms into what looks like a hand gun. I don't know about you, but I know that regular fucking lizards don't fucking do **that**! I didn't know how to react; I am left with my mouth wide open and my eyes bulging at the gun in the reaper's hand.

"H-how...?" I chocked on my words and watched as he pointed the green gun in my face.

I could hear separate roars of gunshots outside and the shrill cry of metal scraping against metal. I unconsciously slid down my seat and crouched over my own lap.

Oh god, they were shooting at us!

"Hey," He barked beside me, "do you know how to drive?"

"Me? Drive? I-I don't."

The death reaper could smirk even under these circumstances, "Time to learn how."

...I bet he was fucking enjoying this!

The car entered into a sharp turn, swerving to the left then right and I, being thrown around like a rag doll, manage to get the tip of my nose to brush against his shoulder.

"I can't get a good shot like this..." Bullets whirred in from the back window and I let out a scream, our car made a sloppy turn to avoid the onslaught of the fired tiny 'missiles' aimed at our heads. I could see from the rear view mirror that the back window was cracked with two holes at the center of the glass. The rain was entering in from the orifices and wet the back seats with droplets of rain.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! **We're gonna die! **

Not even looking back, the death reaper pointed his gun at the rear window and proceeded to shoot at our enemies. The window shattered after the third bullet and consequently, the front wind shield of the car following us blew out, showering our enemies with fragments of glass. The driver lost control of the vehicle and the car swerved violently in the opposite direction. It only took mere seconds for the driver to recover before coming right at us again with more bullets to shoot at us.

"Take the wheel," He ordered before I could complain and cranked his seat lower, making it easier for him to access the back seat, "and keep it steady!"

My fingers were fucking shaking as they pressed the button to release me from the protection of the seat beat. I swear, if I mess up, he'll probably be thrown right of the rear! I crawl hesitantly over to his seat just as he slid his body back. I immediately gripped onto the wheel and lowered my head enough so that I wouldn't get shot.

I focused all my attention on trying to keep the car straight because it started to sway from side to side like a drunken man. All I could hear is gunshots whizzing through the air and my heavy breathing. There's a corner coming up ahead and I didn't bother making the turn, I ram the front of the car into a small cluster of trashcans and the tires screech at my sloppy attempt of a curved turn. I bite back the scream by biting down on my lower lip; my teeth break the skin and make me bleed. The poor car is basically attached to the wall at this point, scrapping the paint off the side of the car and probably creating a huge gash. I could see the sparks flying off the metal.

There is a scream and the car behind us falls back. The death reaper regains his hold of the wheel and made a right turn, leaving the enemy behind. I didn't have the courage to look behind us to check if they were still on our tail. My breath quickens into quick sharp gasps and I think my heart is going to explode. My palms are sweating out of fear and my body is shuddering.

The car came to a smooth halt and I immediately bolted from the seat, opening the driver's door and fall down to the asphalt on my hands and knees. I was quivering like a shaken leaf and I could taste the bile rising in my throat. My hand reaches for my mouth, but I react too slowly since the little meal I ate yesterday erupted from my lips. I sputter, cough and choke everything I had. A putrid sourness tainted my palette and nose, forcing me to practically heave my stomach empty. I couldn't tell if I was crying since the relentless rain is pounding down on me from above.

"Deep breaths," His voice rang in my ears, I swallow down the saliva and blood dripping from my lip. Stopping myself from emptying my guts, I press my palm to my mouth. I inhale then exhale, in and out. I felt so hollow inside like every single bit of my innards is ripped out of me.

I wipe the gunk off my chin and try to stand on my own two feet, but hell, I was still so goddamn helpless. He grabbed my right arm to steady me, then turning me to face him; he brushes away the bangs in front of my face. I take a step forward but my knee buckles and I almost fall on my face, but he happens to catch me.

...I know I look like shit and probably smell too. I know that he may think that I'm just downright fucking disgusting right now. But he doesn't say anything; he wordlessly pulls me towards the car, settles me into the back seat and adjusts my seat belt. He takes off his black coat to reveal a white button up shirt and drapes the wet thing across my shoulders. Funny thing is, is that it's warm...

He settles into the driver's seat and I don't know what happened after, my eyes close, letting me drift into unconsciousness.

* * *

I didn't notice that the car stopped until he closed the driver's door shut. I blink my eyes a couple of times and wipe the tiny crust at the corners of my eyes. My shoulders and neck are fucking stiff, fuck, probably the muscles are sore from being hunched for too long. The sky is darkened and it looked like it finally stopped raining. He opens the passenger door for me and I slip out, holding onto the door so that I wouldn't fall. I was still woozy after all, and fuck, who could really blame me?

Locking the car, he takes a hold of my right hand and leads me into what looks like a hotel. It is a tall large white building with a giant black awning at the front of the establishment and there was the typical red carpet leading into the hotel. The valet out in front took the keys from the reaper's hands and drove the rundown car away.

Damn, it looks like a broken down second hand car... pretty much, a hunk of junk.

The moment I step into the hotel, the thoughts running through my head make me feel... embarrassed. I mean, compared to the death reaper, I look like a shitty homeless person or something in this high class hotel!

_La commare secca_ chuckles at my expression and I shift my neck to stare at him, "Hmm, I think you look great."

...Fucking liar. I felt the urge to wipe the smirk off his face, but I just didn't have the energy. I'd let him have his little victory, this time.

"Ah Senior Reborn," The head clerk announced, approaching us from the main desk in the lobby, "we have been expecting you."

So, his name is Reborn... What a name. It's most likely an alias.

The sleek haired gentleman hands the reaper a key, "Your room is on the fifth floor, room number five twenty-two. Please, enjoy your stay and contact us if you need anything."

The death reaper...Reborn nods and I couldn't help but flush in embarrassment at the bright smile the head clerk is giving me. I didn't dwell on the thought for too long since the _guy_ drags me into the elevator.

The elevator makes a clear ring as it closes its doors and I remove myself from his grip, leaning myself on the wall closest to me. I slip off the coat off my shoulders, fold it and hand it back to him.

He accepts it, while I try and straighten myself a bit. I comb down my hair as best as I could, but fuck, I know my hair is lopsided and tangled. I brush down my clothes with my palms, but I do more harm than good by making more wrinkles appear.

"It doesn't matter," Reborn states in the quiet, "we'll be in a private suite."

I mutter a soft, "Oh."

Shit... A **private **suite that was most likely arranged and paid by the Ninth before we even got to the hotel. I'm way past broke at this point thinking about how much I have to re-pay the Ninth.

The elevator lets out another ring to open its doors and we both step out. The hallway is quiet and empty as we walk down the long length of carpet. Reborn leading in front, while I followed from behind. I am a prisoner after all, in this war between mafia families.

He opens the door with the key in his hand and pushes it open.

Dropping my luggage, he proceeds to seat himself on a chair, "Wash up and sleep early. We're leaving tomorrow morning."

I nod slowly and notice how large the entire suite is. With my non-existent salary, I was comfortable in my snug apartment, but this huge accommodation made my room pale in comparison. There was a red couch covered in luxurious silk with matching pillows and a middle sized ebony coffee table on a cream nude carpeting. The giant television set stuck in front of the coffee table and completed the entertainment center. The chair Reborn is sitting on is part of the dining area of the room.

I walk into the open double doors to see the bedroom with one bed. What hit me the hardest is the fact that there is _only_ one bed...Although it was a double king sized bed; it is still just one bed.

"Umm," I walk out of the bedroom and Reborn turns to look at me, "how is our sleeping arrangement gonna work?"

"We're sharing the bed... unless of course," He sent me a cruel dastardly smile, "you want to sleep on the floor, _darling_."

Darling... Damn fucker, you go fucking sleep on the damn floor!

...What the hell!

I hissed in disbelief, "This isn't...!"

He answered my question with another, "So, will you be taking a shower darling, or shall I go first?"

**ARGH! **He is so damn fucking ridiculous!

* * *

**Yellow-Sama Says...** Seeing as how my last update was too short to compensate for my long absence, I wrote out this really long chapter. The chapter is roughly three thousand and nine hundred words, even though I planned for the chapter to only be two thousand words long. I tried hard not to make it end off in a cliff-hanger this time. So, I hope the ending of the chapter is not considered to be one in your books. If it is, you know I tried. I had a lot of trouble with writing the action scenes in this chapter, especially in figuring out the car terminology. Thankfully, my father helped me out quite a bit. Although, it comes to show that I really need to read some action stories or watch some action movies to get the scenes down pat.

I'd like to thank my regulars: **10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat**, **Ashj **and **Something Written** and a new comer, **Dragonet-Dialga123** for reviewing. I really loved the reviews I received; your reviews literally motivated me to write this very long chapter. Grace made me laugh when she called me a "sadistic MONSTER" in her review; it got me into thinking of changing my username to that little nickname... Plus, I'm glad there are flaws to Amaranta that some readers do not like about her, I mean to tell the truth, there are times when I don't even like her.

Plus, I just wanted to point out that I'm also working on other fanfictions on other sites, so check out my main page for more details.

Happy Holidays~


	8. Chapter 7

The fog seeps over the entire city, blurring out all colours and distinctions and only leaves faint outlines of the things around me. That is all I'm really certain of.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: ** First Love – Utada Hikaru (piano instrumental)

* * *

The ache and sores are immediately swept away once I let my body gently sink into the depths of the bubbly water bath; ugh, why I never had a bath in such a long time, I'd never know.

I usually took showers since I was always preoccupied with my... old job and because my old shower was smaller than this bathtub. It was cramp and too narrow to have a 'proper' bubble bath of any kind. But then, let me put it this way, it could only fit one person, no, a child. I guess that bubble baths were a perk in super expensive hotel rooms.

... Let's not go down that way.

I lent my head back, resting against the ledge of the bathtub. I shouldn't want to think about anything. The warm water and bubbles against my skin felt divine and it'd be crazy for anyone to want to leave something so relaxing. The grime collected on every inch of my pores dissolves with each passing second and the soapy suds begin to rejuvenate my pink flesh. The white soapy bubbles gather around my limbs and clings on like a comfortable layer of silky stuff... Like a vine, the bubbles swirl and dance up to my collar bones. My hair is tangled, matted with the soapy goodness and tickles the back of my neck. The scent of some exotic fruit fills my lungs and I am in heaven.

I sigh lightly, I deserved this break. Yeah, I deserved a break ever since I ran into gangsters who wanted to kill me, lost my job and apartment, left to be indebted to a Mafioso boss and am now being watched like a hawk by a death reaper... well, not right now, but you know what I mean. A girl needs to ... drift off into some simple pleasures now and then, and this is one of those 'now and then' moments.

I could feel the tightened muscles in my legs and lower back ease and turn into wiggly noodles.

Slowly, I let the water rise above my head as I close my eyes.

Ah yes... This is good.

After a soothing soak, I resurface and with the palms of my hands, wipe away the bubbles from my eyelids. I didn't know how long I was in the bath, but knowing _he'd_ probably come in and kick me out or even worse... mock me. I lift myself up with my arms holding onto the ledge after draining the tub of the magical liquid of life. Grabbing a cream towel, or two, or three, I proceed to dry my tangled hair and move my fingers through my damp tresses to separate them into strands. I wiped my rosy pink complexion with the second towel and used the last to follow the curves of my arms and legs, drying off my entire body. After dressing myself, I exited the bathroom and attempted to keep my composure as stoic as possible. Who knew what he'd say if I let a huge smile plant itself between my cheeks.

His silky voice is nonchalant, "How unfortunate, I thought you died in there."

I saw that coming.

"Too bad for you, isn't it?" My eyes sparkled with a cheekiness that should have annoyed him if he was a normal person, but Reborn smirks in return.

He answered before entering the bathroom himself once I stepped out, "Too bad indeed."

A smile crept onto my lips; heh, I got the last word there. I revelled in my small victory before he chuckled, "But know that the little bath you had just increased your debt to the Ninth."

My left eye twitched; that fucking bastard...! EUGH, I didn't want to think about that...!

The door shut before I could manage to grab a shoe and chuck it at Reborn's big fat head. His black leather shoe in my right hand was clenched by my fingers, but I let out a loud exhale and dropped it. I dragged my feet and plopped myself down on the sofa, hearing the sound of the shower faintly from the bathroom. I glance at the television screen to watch the show playing.

I never really watch television since I couldn't afford it at my old place. My 'colleagues' would go on and on about this American show about this pair who were in a forbidden relationship. The woman lead was an actress, while the male lead was a waiter at a restaurant the actress woman occasionally visits and they happen to meet. There were also other stories in the series, but they were unfortunately quite stale compared to the forbidden love story.

Currently on the screen, it looked like the director of the movie who was engaged to the actress is about to find the actress cradled lovingly within the arms of the waiter guy. I watched as the camera zoomed in onto the actress's distressed facial expression at the sound of her fiancé's voice, calling out to her from the hallway outside her room. With a warm but brief embrace, the waiter presses a sweet kiss onto his lover's lips before leaving through her balcony. She walks shortly after him and watches him run off into the dark night as she closes the doors.

A close call, I had to admit, but I couldn't help but have my heart thump against my chest loudly at the sight of the kiss shared between the actress and the waiter character. The pair was cute, but I couldn't help but feel that their strong bond could be felt through that little show of affection. Their passion for one another shining in each others' eyes and the tears threatening to fall from the lashes of the actress create a scene describing a love that could never be. It's a heart wrenching thought to never stand together, side by side, with the one you love.

...I must be tired.

Nothing really happened after the successful escapade of the young waiter and I grew bored of that soap opera. I was going to change the channel to see if anything else was on at the same time slot, but I managed to see that... thing. The green lizard with its creepy golden yellow eyes was staring at me from two cushions away. I gulped, I did not want to see that thing, but I was oddly fascinated by the reptile. I mean, it didn't look any different from any other lizard thing I've seen, but it managed to transform itself into a revolver that could shoot real bullets.

I stared and it stared back. Continuing to stare at me with its gold yellow irises, I shifted my body so I could look down at the green reptile with its cold slimy slithery skin... I get goose bumps just remembering the texture of its skin. God, the little thing creeped me out, I wouldn't be surprised if I got nightmares about that thing.

"Hey, get me a towel."

I nearly jumped out of my skin to glance at the bathroom door.

I snorted, "Why don't you get it yourself?"

"Fine, I will."

I blinked and remembered the fact that I just used up all the towels in the bathroom, which meant that...

...

...

...

Oh hell no. My face flushed at least four shades of vivid crimson.

I screeched, "F-FUCK, DON'T COME OUT!"

"Why not," I could sense the mocking chuckle about to erupt from his lips.

"J-just h-hold on a sec-," I scramble towards the bedroom and throw open the closet door to find a pile of fluffy towels.

I grab a bunch and skidded across the floor to the bathroom. I manage to bump my hip against the door handle on the way out of the bedroom and knew that I'd bruise later. The stinging pain urges me on until it becomes a dull shadow of what it once was.

Reaching my hands out for him to take the towels, I glance to look towards the living room area, "H-here, j-just take them."

Wordlessly, Reborn receives the towels and I take a step forward to return to my place on the sofa when he grabs my arm. Dragging me inside the washroom, he presses me between him and the door leaving space for only a single sheet of paper to separate us two. His torso is bare and he isn't wearing his fedora hat. I felt like I could be trapped staring into his dark charcoal eyes forever. They're startling and intriguing, revealing how dangerous and mysterious a character he truly is. His left leg is nestled in between my thighs, with the knee almost brushing against my crotch and he reaches a hand to caress my face. The proximity allowed me to almost taste his faint cologne and the exotic fruits from earlier.

Oh god, I know I must look like a glowing red stop light or something. I felt naked under his gaze... even though he was the one with the bare torso. I could see the droplets of water cascade down his lean muscular figure under the light. I could see the crystal teardrops cascade down his neck line, down past his chest, his pecks and continuing further down, down. A deep guttural chuckle rings in my ears and he leans forward. The hand caressing my cheek travels down with his digits tracing the side of my figure. His fingers follow the curve of my neckline, barely touching my breast and dances along until his hand reaches my hip. My eyelashes flutter and I feel myself leaning forward. He meets my gesture and is about to close the distance between us but instead, he whispers into the shell of my ear.

"Where's the towel?"

I blink once, then twice. I look down at my hands where the towels are still folded neatly in a messy stack. Dropping the towels on the floor, I immediately run to the bedroom and lock the door behind me. My wobbly knees fail me and I fall slowly onto my butt, resting my back against the door.

Oh god, oh god, oh god...! What did I, I just wanted to bitch slap myself! The hell was I imagining; I couldn't think about him in that way!

But then why couldn't I...?

AUGH; Amaranta, just shut up right now! Don't think about him or his sexy...

I wanted to bash my head against a wall if it would help me forget about everything I just imagined in the last five minutes. I didn't want to admit it to myself but the guy was attractive, even if he was a jerk. Fuck his smouldering dark gaze, those side curls, and his beautiful lips that appeared firm and...

I was going to hell.

I didn't want to be conscious towards that... DAMN SONOFAGUN.

* * *

I didn't know what time it was when I woke up, but the direct sun glare in my face was a sure indicator that it wasn't nightfall. I didn't feel like getting up since I was in the midst of cuddling into my nest of clean sheets. My limbs tangled into the whiteness, leaving the toes of my feet along with the top of my head peeking out from the bed sheets. My eyes squinted as I shifted in the bed and my face became acquainted with the floor. I bit down my lip from screaming out a 'yelp'.

This was the start of a beautiful, beautiful day.

My stomach gurgled annoyingly, crying out that I was hungry. To satiate this hunger, I had to pick my ass up. My arms bent at my sides, lifted me up slowly with my butt sticking up in the air. I got onto my knees, and then I was on my feet and out of the bedroom.

There wasn't any sign of him around which kinda surprised me. The light streamed into the suite and he was nowhere to be found. Did this mean I was off the hook? But then I saw the note posted on the television screen.

I grabbed the slip of paper and peered at his cursive handwriting, 'I've gone out. Wait here for breakfast.'

Fucker, what did he take me for? I wasn't his little bitch!

What stopped me from approaching the mini bar in the kitchen area of the apartment was the pricing of the products inside the damn thing. Who would ever think to drink a bottle of 'mineral' water that would them 6400 lire! Those damn money grubbing assholes. Besides, I had the debt to think about...

I strode into the washroom to freshen up, coating my lips with a thin layer of rouge, wiped off the crust off the corners of my eyelids and threw my hair back behind my shoulders, casting curly messy waves down my back. Grabbing my purse after throwing clothes here and there onto the floor in the bedroom, my feet slipped into a pair of chunky dark blue heels and I was set.

The day was lukewarm for an autumn afternoon, the ends of my one piece stripped dress billowed slightly with the dance of the light breeze and I stepped out from underneath the awning of the hotel. My hair pushed by the wind, splayed over my shoulders and I breathed in. The air was cool and there was something aged about it due to the arrival of autumn and I found it funny how I hadn't realized the subtle changes of season. With every step, I surveyed the area around me, it was rich with the hustle and bustle of the city I lived in, but there was something very unique about this city. The colours surrounding me were more vibrant and the streets surprisingly cleaner. Couples and individuals alike dressed in fashion with their short skirts and high white 'go go' boots as the 'chic' girls who'd pass me by on my way to the office would address the new type of shoe wear. If you asked me about it though, I think today's fashion just made all the girls look like hussies.

"Hey, I've never seen you around," A male voice announces from the right side of me, I turn and see a young man with messy brown locks for hair, smiling at me with a case of red delicious apples in his arms, "Are you new?"

"Oh... uh," I mumbled, before clearing my throat, "How did you know?"

He chuckles with a voice of something sweeter than honey, "A pretty lady like you is rare."

I smile lightly, "Thank you."

"Not a problem," He cheerfully grins at me.

A gruff voice from a distance away shouts, "HEY GIO, WHERE ARE YAH, YAH LAZY ASS! WHERE'S THE FRUIT?"

The tips of Gio's ears flush, "Sorry I gotta go."

"I'm sorry to have kept you," I apologize.

"Nah, nah. S'alright," Before Gio begins to walk off, he introduces himself, "And I'm Georgio by the way."

I hesitated for a moment and said, "Amaranta."

"See you around," The look in his greenish grey eyes expects me to affirm his statement.

I shrug my shoulders with my light smile transforming into a teasing grin, "Maybe."

I turn and proceed to walk in a random direction, but Gio stops me, handing me an apple with a free hand, "For the pretty lady~"

"Thanks," I flush slightly and watch as he jogs away with the crate of them towards a bakery on the other end of the street corner. I hum as I walk, staring down at the shiny red skin of the apple. My palette salivates at the sight of such a beautiful colour and I take the first bite. The juices rush onto my taste buds and the fruit's flesh is so unmistakeably sweet.

It's not a bad day at all, I think.

Passing by several stores and a grocer, I manage to find a small café. It was a quaint little place, not too secluded and not too flashy. With a dark green awning and white fences to make a patio area outside, it was somewhat picturesque to the eye. The place itself wasn't too crowded, the tables were occupied by couples, small groups of four individuals or the sole individual drinking an espresso or eating a tiny confection.

"Table for one," A waitress with snowy blonde hair smiles at me, carrying a menu under her arm.

I nod, still munching on the apple Gio gave me. Following her to a table out on the patio, I sit beside the window pane outside the café itself. The waitress places the menu in front of me, "Take your time."

I nod again, finishing off the last nibble of the fruit and then placing the core on the tiny white plate in front of me. I peer at the menu, then inside the café. The interior had matching green walls, a white tiled floor and auburn brown tables similar to the design of those out on the patio area. There are potted plants decorating the front of the café and...

**He** was there.

...With a woman.

"Are you ready to order," The waitress had come back, flapping her long eyelashes at me with her perky lips curled into a mocking smile.

I grit my teeth and smile, "Cappuccino. Make it a grande."

The waitress writes the order on a notepad, "Will that be all?"

I ignore the 'happy little miss sunshine' walk off with my apple core and my order and return to glaring inside the café. I could spot the bastard from anywhere, especially the back of his stupid fedora hat with that huge yellow ribbon round the middle of it. The sight of him just ruined my day... I mean, wasn't there any other goddamn café he could have gone to instead of this one?

I wondered who the woman was, dressed in a white dress with an orange ribbon around the bust. She had dark blue hair with dazzling kind hearted blue eyes and an orange flower tattoo directly underneath her left eye. Her hair in length was short with side bangs combed to the right.

Was she, his sister, his girlfriend or maybe his wife...?

...Why the fuck did I care?

The pair was talking amongst themselves with the blue haired woman giggling at the comment Reborn made. A sinking feeling in my chest annoyed me and I didn't want to know the real reason why I felt like shit right then and there.

I turn to stare at my clenched fists on the table; I could feel my face burning. The hell was going on with me?

Turning my head, I continued to look at the woman that was speaking to the dark jerk face. Compared to her, I looked like crap even though I wore my favourite dress out today. Fuck... I didn't want to feel this way.

I blink and notice that the woman is smiling directly at me. I blink again and she blinks at me, proceeding to wave. OH SHIT.

I dive underneath the table and huddle my shoulders to make myself small. Why the fuck was I hiding? Was I scared that he would see me out here, alone by myself? But then, why the fuck would he care? Why the fuck should I care? Aw, damn it all!

"Are you alright?" The perky bitch is back with my cappuccino, finally! Where the hell was she hiding?

That's it! Maybe I was going insane because I didn't have my daily dose of caffeine! Yes, that was it!

I nod and shoo her away, but curse like a sailor when she left my coffee out on the table where everyone could see it. That stupid little bitch, I am not fucking tipping her!

Fuck, I hope they're not looking my way. I inch myself to peer over the white metal table, I glance over and see that he is beyond pissed. His eyes are hard as diamonds and are piercing through me as if he was about to kill. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he did kill me, drag me back from hell and kill me again. With my right hand, I drag the cappuccino towards me before lifting it off the table and sank right back down underneath the table. I waited a few seconds before placing the lire I owed on the table, pushed myself off my knees and hauled my ass outta there.

I huffed and puffed as I ran three blocks back to the hotel, almost tackling down the doorman on the way back to my room. I think I may have broken the button on the elevator to reach the fifth floor. Inside the elevator, I was planning out what I would do once I got into the suite. It would take him at least twice the amount of time it did for me to come back, so I would need to get rid of coffee... even though I paid for it and never got to finish the thing. I'd change back into the clothes I wore, drag my suitcase and throw into the closet. Finally, I'd throw myself under the bed covers and pretend to wake up when he does storm into the bedroom. Hopefully, he won't kill me in such a gruesome and disturbing way... I wondered if I should beg for forgiveness.

I enter the corridor of the fifth floor and rummage through my purse for the key to the suite. Once I hear the click of the door signalling to me that it was open, I practically run through the door and see him, sitting calmly on the sofa, nonchalantly sipping away at his hot espresso without even turning his head.

"Your breakfast is on the counter," He states, taking another long sip of his coffee.

I let out a soft 'oh' and carefully inch for the paper bag. I place my cappuccino on the marble surface and open up the bag to find a bagel with black sesame seeds on the bun, sliced in halves and slathered with cream cheese, along with a tiny muffin dotted with tiny pieces of blueberries.

It looked safe enough to eat, but I was sorta sceptic towards the fact that he didn't blow up like a raging volcano. Maybe I should give me more credit.

"Eat, we're leaving in five," He turned his head towards me and the death glare was still there.

Well, shit.

* * *

**Yellow-Sama Says...** I kept running into writer's block trying to get myself into the right mindset for this chapter and I'm glad that I managed to get it out before my 'study' break was over. I'm sorry if it seems the chapter ends with a sort of cliffhanger, you know I tried and failed again. There will be mistakes I'm sure that I left here in this chapter since I rushed it... So, I also apologize for that. On another note, as of March 19th, Impalpable Attraction is 2 years old. I can't believe how long this project has been up and running! I am sad, however, that I only made it up to the seventh chapter (with a prologue of course) but I honestly have to keep up my game and complete this series!

I give my shout-outs to **builtbymachines**, **Ashj**, my stalker Grace a.k.a **Something Written**. I send my love to you. I'd like to thank my new reviewers as of late, **Juliedoo**, **Shadow Dice**, **safa56bmc** and **Tearful Reunion**. I'll also say my thanks to my shadow readers who haven't surfaced as of yet and those who sotry alerted and favorited this sad excuse of a fanfiction.

Until the next update~


	9. Chapter 8

When she rises to the surface, she searches for adventure in a world that is separate from her own. The young gentle heart desires to discover what lay out there in the far off distance in order to find something that she can call her own.

**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: ** Home – Angela Aki

There wasn't a hint of annoyance in his expression, save for the furrowed thin brows etched over the pair of black charcoal pools that were his eyes. His lithe fingers tap impatiently behind the wheel as he watches the pair of old men hobble across the cobbled street before him. His focus doesn't falter even when my eyes flicker over to gaze meekly over at him, then to my own window and back.

It wasn't the only thing that drove me up the fucking wall. The intense stuffy atmosphere inside the car is enough to make any grown man want to break open a window and let the cool sweet air sweep in. Unfortunately, I'm not a male and am not some kind of freak with amazing super strength that can make a dent on the passenger window. But I digress; it's a bad idea to want to destroy the property of a Mafioso boss, especially when you're in the midst of creating a fifty mile long tab and have trouble in paying back that damn debt.

I sat beside the driver and waited. Personally, I don't understand how anyone can even think of referring to the action of waiting as a fucking game because the jerk face who suggested that thought was a genius; he must have been a real piece of crappy shit. I didn't want to have to sit right beside the 'ticking time bomb' that could blow at any second. Fuck, why didn't Reborn just yell at me already, for god's sake! The bastard was just waiting for me to crack, I swear! If it weren't for the fact that I was scared shitless to utter any sort of complaint through these dry lips of mine, then I'd do something real stupid to just get the heavy two hundred pound opera singing woman off my chest. I want to get things over and done with and damn it, I don't give a rat's ass if I'm dead by the next hour, I fucking hate being tortured like this!

I cleared my throat, but he didn't give me the slightest hint of a smouldering glance from the corner of his eye,"...S-so, umm..."

"What?" Unexpectedly, his voice wasn't cold, but held a certain edge to it.

My eyes flicker over the dashboard of the car and back to my lap, "Never mind."

We pass another streetlight and cross over to another street before he fills the silence, his deep voice slices through the calm like a knife, "I'm not angry."

I didn't say anything. The car begins to slow and I catch the look in his eyes, "But pull another stunt like that and I'll make sure that you can never walk again."

Shivers ran up and down my spine, I knew he wasn't fucking around. My heart palpitated in my throat and my hands trembled, coated with a cold sweat. All I did was nod wordlessly because after all this time, I finally knew when to keep my pretty little mouth shut.

Building after building, another streetlamp and another trashcan, it was like we were trapped in a maze with the same scenery passing me by for the past hour. Don't get me wrong, it was still more dynamic than the country side with Nono. Out into the distance, all you would ever see were the great vast grasslands, a few cows or sheep and white picket fences. Nothing interesting, that's only one of the reasons why I decided to do work in the city and well, who the fuck likes to get up at the crack of dawn to work on a damn farm.

Nonno sure did.

Slumping further into my seat, I closed my eyes and mentally pictured the gray haired old man, carefully tending to his grove of apple trees. He'd be wearing dirty brown overalls with patches of colourful cloth hiding away the worn tears from working so hard in the orchards, the giant mustard gloves with the giant hole on the right glove's ring finger and his shiny black boots he'd polish after I went to bed for the night. I could imagine him carrying an empty metal bucket that had once held water as he heads back to that little brown roofed house, leaning more on his good foot as he walks.

I wonder if he's alright. Chuckling to myself, I couldn't ever fathom the old goat could ever keel over and die from exhaustion. Nonno is tough for someone his age, since anyone that old would be stuck in bed, wasting every minute of the life they had left, just laying there and slowly suffering to their last breath.

The car slowly comes to a halt and Reborn turns to look at me, "Who are you thinking about?"

"No one," From the corner of my eye, I glance over to him for a second before turning away again, "why, are you jealous or something?"

He chuckles, pressing on the gas pedal to move the vehicle forward, "No. But frown anymore and your wrinkles will be permanent."

I blink and self consciously look at my reflection in the side car mirror, afraid to see if I really did have prominent age lines or to find any weird marks on my face. I scoff and mumble the phrase "shut up" under my breath. He goddamn well knows that I didn't have any fucking wrinkles, the stupid bastard.

My fingers find themselves brushing against my cheek bone and sliding down the contours of the side of my face. I didn't look that old, in fact, I'm always assumed to look younger than I really am and it's not like that's a bad thing. Though, it did make it a bitch to get any respect at the office of my old job.

Sighing, I close my eyes and take a breath, "Are we there yet?"

The fucker totally intended to ignore my question and focused on driving the car instead. I grit my teeth and projected my voice when I had to fucking repeat myself, "**Are we there yet**?"

"Hm," Reborn acts nonchalantly as he finally answers the question, turning the wheel to the left; we make the corner and proceed onwards, "Sorry, I thought you didn't want me to speak to you."

My eye twitched. ARGH, fucking damn smart aleck, just fucking answer my damn question!

He cuts off the engine and pulls out the key from the ignition, "We're here."

Finally, fuck!

I push my way out of the car with the passenger door slamming itself shut. Intertwining my fingers, I reach up with my arms for a nice stretch. Hearing the bones in my shoulders crack, I let out a soft relaxed exhale. Turning to the side, I study the building that's going to be my new home.

I'm relieved that it isn't anything too fancy but what caught me by surprise is that we're parked right outside a grocery store. I'm not about to complain about the fact that I was going to live in a grocery store, heck, I wouldn't have given a fuck if I had to live in a giant trash can at this point.

I am pushed abruptly forward and I turn to scowl at the towering black hit man, "You're blocking the way."

Blocking his way? Fucker, use that damn little brain of yours and walk around me! Or did you take too many hits in the head that you're too much of an idiot to think of something so simple?

His eyes leer at me for a second, "But some girl just happened to be hogging the entire street so that I couldn't pass. That's rather selfish, don't you think?"

...Was he calling me what I thought he was calling me? Oh no, he didn't!

I didn't bother wasting my breath trying to yell at the moron and proceed to walk towards the building. It was a red brick two story establishment with a black roof; the first floor being the actually shop and the top floor being my new home. It appeared quaint on the outside and I bet it had a homey feel once I stepped inside the place.

Reborn strides past me and drops my luggage right beside me as he opens the door to enter the store. A chiming bell indicates that we're at the front and the asshole steps in, without even leaving the doorway open for me and my stuff! I never realized how tired I had become after the ride and I sure didn't have a fucking clue that my luggage would be so damn heavy! Shit, the fuck did I manage to cram inside the damn thing; oh wait, every goddamn thing I owned was in there! Fucking idiot, the hell was his problem? Doing his fucking work so damn half-assed and leaving a cute young lady like me to lug this huge ass brick into the building!

Bending my knees, I lift the brick with my arms and wince at the weight. FUUUUU...! I grit my teeth and shifting my feet slowly, I inch toward the door to the grocery shop.

"Need some help?"

I instantly drop the brick onto the ground, soundlessly huffing away for breath, "Oh god, yes please!"

An arm lifts the goddamn brick and I look up to see who it is, "O-oh, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me. I knew we'd meet again," It was Georgio, while he grins at me, I could feel the nostalgic flush run across my cheeks. Gosh darn it...! Comparing our height, he's pretty tall. Georgio could easily be the same height as Reborn.

The brunette tilts his head cutely to the side, "So, where are we headed?"

"A-ahead actually," I look down at the sidewalk shyly.

...I wonder if he lived around here.

Geez, Amaranta, of course Georgio would live around here fuck! He works in the area for God's sake!

"Really," His voice becomes an octave higher, meaning that he was surprised by my answer, "you're moving in?"

I shook my head in confirmation, "Yeah. Why?"

"It's nothing," He grins happily.

"Are you two lovebirds finished?"The devil himself appears with his arms crossed against his chest, leaning against the door frame to the building. Before turning to disappear inside, Reborn states in a demanding voice vying for complete attention, "Hurry and get inside."

Seriously, again! The fucking hell was his problem?

"Sorry," Georgio apologizes and begins to walk towards the door to the store.

I scurry ahead because besides opening the door for Georgio who is such a sweetheart for carrying that damn fucking brick of mine, I also wanted to fucking slam open the door in the hopes of hitting **that** damn fucking bastard since he fucking deserved it! To my dismay, there isn't any one standing directly in front of the door. The interior looked like every other grocery store with pyramids of fruit and vegetables to one side and packages of grain and other produce on shelves. The walls are painted with sky blue paint and the light gray floor tiles look as if they were cleaned a while ago. The cash is placed near the front on a wooden countertop.

"Fuck, Gio; tha' hell 'yah so late comin'...!" A gruff voice grumbles from inside the store and a snowy white haired man hobbles towards us. Looking up at me with the same olive green eyes as Georgio's, his lips attempt to curl into a smile, but I was met with a crooked line of a grin.

"Eh, you' a Signorina Russo, eh," The old man acknowledges his statement with a nod and raises a hand for a hand shake, "Nice tah meet cha."

I comply with the gesture and shake his hand. I could feel the rough skin of his left palm brush against my right, "It's a pleasure..."

"Antonio, a' yer service signorina," He cracks open a wider smile and I see a gaping hole where his front teeth should have been.

Georgio instigates another conversation, "Where do I put her things, padre?"

...Wait, they're both related to each other? My eyes flicker between the man and his father. I couldn't see any resemblance between the two at all. Maybe Georgio takes after his mother? And I was going to live with the both of them, here. With Georgio and his father here...? ...Who would have thought?

Antonio clicks his tongue, "Idiot figlio, upstairs a' course! Why, yah wan' her tah sleep in here with tha' fruit?"

Georgio's lips slip into a grimace and I tried to alleviate the situation a little, since it was the least I could do for him, "It's a-alright, I can..."

With another click of his tongue, Antonio refuses me, "No, no, no, signorina Russo! S'alright. Now, go Gio."

Georgio nods wordlessly and sends me a thankful look before walking through a door leading to a staircase up to the top floor. Antonio begins to explain how the living arrangement would be organized, but I wasn't really listening. I don't really notice it myself but my glance lingers once the brunette is gone.

Reborn mutters softly, while looking at a pyramid of lemons, "What a cute couple."

My eye brows rise at the comment, wow... I think that's the only thing he's ever said to me that was remotely nice, even if it was indirectly.

...Wait the fuck, I wasn't...!

SHIT.

"Honestly," His charcoal iris meets the corner of my eye, "commoners like you two deserve each other."

My hands clench into fists. Tempted to punch the living daylights outta the fucking jerk face, I bit down on my lip instead. I really didn't want to cause a damn scene with the jackass because I really honest to God wanted to live here. Not just because of Georgio... but, I actually liked the building itself. With a warm and comfortable atmosphere, it was a home away from home. The feeling I got from being here is something like nostalgia.

"Then signorina," Antonio begins, "I know tha' yer only stayin' here temporarily, but yah always welcome tah stay longer if ah need be."

That was true, wasn't it? How long was I really going to stay here? For the next two weeks or three months, I wasn't even sure myself. The family is really sweet to let me stay here, even if it's under the order of a terrifying mobster boss. I didn't want to intrude in their lives even more and make my staying here, uncomfortable for them.

Damn... How the fuck was I going to re-pay the Ninth and Antonio?

I try my best to smile, seeing as how guilty I feel right now, "Thank you so much, Antonio. But, I'm not quite sure if I should be, you know, staying here for free."

Antonio sighs and shakes his head as if he's heard my insecure worry about a thousand times already.

"Signorina Russo," He brings both of his hands and holds onto my right hand, "you a' guest."

"That wouldn't feel right for the signorina, Signore Antonio," Reborn begins as he walks right beside me and places his arm comfortably across my shoulders, "she thinks she's taking advantage over you."

I didn't like the glint in the assassin's charcoal eyes. He's plotting something and I'd rather not want to find out what he has in store. Plus, the fact that the darned snake wrapped his arm around my shoulders, just made me feel so damn uncomfortable. I try to shake him off, but he holds a tighter grip onto my left shoulder that I wince. Damn it, fucking let go of me, you...!

I barely notice it, but he whispers in my ear which is ignored completely by Antonio. His voice is so husky and dark that it undoubtedly sent shivers down my spine,"...It's so easy to make you squirm."

ARGH! So damn fucking unbelievable!

"Pah!" Antonio scoffs, "If Signorina Russo feels this way, what do ya' suggest she should do then, Signore?"

His lips curve into a light smile and I didn't fucking like that expression at all. I swear I am fucking scared shitless of what Reborn's about to say. My eyes widen once he spoke the words passing through his lips.

"The signorina would love to pay you back with her body," Reborn glances down at me with a closed eye smile, "wouldn't you, Signorina Russo?"

Pay with my body...?

...

Why the fuck was he making me sound like I'm some damn slutty little whore looking for a job on the streets?

My throat clenches and my voice squeaks before I speak, "I-I can work. I insist."

Gathering the change from the cash register, I place my hand over the woman's hand and let the coins slide off my fingers into her palm.

_Looking at my figure from top to bottom, I felt as if I was being stripped down naked in Antonio's eyes. Hell, I didn't just feel uncomfortable but fucking embarrassed; I knew he didn't like what he saw. I'm of average height and build; I'm really nothing special to look at... I'm sad to admit. I could tell that he was studying my arms with a quick brief glance; my arms are stringy thin twigs, but I could hold my own, sorta. _

"Here's your change," My voice is monotonous, I know, "Have a nice da-..."

_Antonio's olive eyes stare deeply into my own, "So ah, what can yah do?"_

From the corner of my eye, I spot Antonio standing beside the pyramid of lemons. His gaze is glued onto my every move for the past hour or so and it is just fucking creepy. The old man reminded me of a doting mother bird looking after her baby birds in their nest. A cute comparison, sure, but now that I think about it for a while longer, it's still damn creepy.

_I open my mouth to speak, but I stop myself and let out a tiny gurgling sound. Shit, it's been forever since I'd done anything that was, you know, remotely related to selling something. Sure, I've haggled for prices with neighboring farms for goats and stuff, but it's been so damn long. Fuck, the last time I'd done anything like handling customers as a real honest to god salesperson was when I was thirteen selling cases of apples for Nonno. Even then, all I could do was half baked shitty ass work because I hate dealing with customers, especially the bitchy kind since you could never win with them. They could fucking eat shit if they wanted; hell, I didn't give a crap about them. They grated my nerves like a block of room temperature Mozzarella cheese. _

I could have done anything else besides waiting on people with their damn groceries. I could have worked in the back with Georgio and carrying around bricks if I had to or clean the crap off the floors or something. I was fine with doing manual labour. I just really didn't want to handle people. And fuck, it was always **his** fault for getting me into troublesome bullshit that I didn't want to deal with.

_He had to answer for me, "She has experience in dealing with customers and financial matters. Why not give her the opportunity to be a cashier?" _

_My right knuckle twitches at his suggestion and I mentally send the fucker a frosty glare. The guy doesn't even flinch or react toward my hostility. In fact, he calmly smiles back at me and doesn't even bother hiding his damn smugness. The fucktard...! _

I hate not deciding my own future with my own hands. I don't want to be lead into doing things that I hate doing. I wanted freedom and to find a place to call my own, those are the reasons why I left Nonno's house in the first place. I'm my own person now, so why can't I choose what I want to do? Fucking screw the Vongola and Reborn! I don't need their shit! I just... I don't want to feel helpless. I want control over my life, is that too much to ask? I don't want to be stuck here forever. I don't want to be indebted to Vongola Nono and Antonio... but I am and I have to work my ass off to pay this favor off.

_His greying eyebrows were furrowed in thought as he slowly nods his head in agreement, "Yeah, yeah." _

I take a breath and clear my throat, "H-Have a nice day."

_Returning to stare at me like a dead fish, Antonio asks me, "So, what do you think, signorina Russo?" _

I feel superficial because of the warm smile on my face seems like it has been plastered onto it without a second thought. My voice is far too saccharine that you could immediately discern that I'm forcing myself to be perky and happy. I sound too high pitched; my voice sounds almost like the scared shrill squeals of a fat ass smelly hog.

God, I can only imagine how Antonio must feel now that I am here. He's probably hiding the fact that he's pissed about me staying here. Antonio is forced to comply with the Nono for whatever reason and he must be having a fucking ball too. Probably has it harder than me.

Fuck, do I feel guilty.

The middle aged blonde woman just smiles back and gratefully nods once I pass her the last grocery bag from across the counter top. Hobbling on her stubby legs, the plump woman heads for the door with her full load of groceries. With that much food, she must be feeding too many mouths at home.

I would never dream to be a mother. Hell, I never thought about it before, not until now at least. I never cared much about having kids and now that I think about it. I don't think I'd ever want any.

Antonio politely holds the door open for the customer, grinning at the plump middle aged woman before she exits the shop. Once the door shuts closed behind her, the store is relatively quiet since there isn't anyone except for Antonio and me. I could distinctly hear the soft ticking of the second hand travelling around the face of the clock. Staring as the seconds pass me by, I couldn't help but think that the damn machine is mocking me. Constantly telling me how insignificant and powerless I am when I'm standing here as if frozen in time.

The old man approaches the counter and glances up at the clock that read the fourth hour in the afternoon, "Well ah, it gets slow around this time, so let's a take a lil' break, eh, Signorina Russo?"

I sigh in relief for the little break. At my old job, I was fucking worked to the bone with some short random shitty break scattered here and there when I didn't cover any story or play the role of little miss bitch in charge of getting everyone's coffee and shit.

"Hmm, what's ah botherin' yah, signorina," A crease lined the old man's brow as Antonio gave me a look of concern, "yah look ah sad."

I shake my head, my pride cold heartedly rejected any sort of pity from anyone, especially Antonio, "No, nothing's wrong."

Sure, I like being pre-occupied with work but this is different than taking pictures for a newspaper. Hell, this new job fits a whole other type of manual labour and for now, it's just fucking stressing me out. I mean, fuck, I was so used to being the one who just took photographs in revealing the truth or hopefully, the damn honest truth of the stories happening around the cities or towns.

There's a pause before I let out a sigh. He's giving me the "I-know-you're-lying look".

"Well, you know... A new job is..."

"Hard." Antonio finishes my sentence for me.

I just nod silently.

"Life is ah very hard, signorina. Believe me when I ah tell yah this, yah can't ah evah giv'up withou' ah fight. You ah smart one, my eyes ah can tell. Things will ah turn around."

Now, I feel like I've been dropped down to rock bottom. I'm back to being that lowly intern, running around like a little bitch after her own tail. This just sucked ass.

"But, it just bothers me... a lot," I look down at the countertop and feel the burning sensation at the corner of my eyes, but I can't cry, "I just... hate being like this."

"You ah jus' haft ah adapt because signorina, no one is perfect. Even if they ah, they ah load ah bullshit, eh?"

I nod in agreement, "Yeah."

"Aftah all, I needed tah adapt tuh get tha' business started. I struggled an' then I took tha' help. I think back and ah nevah woulda thought I woulda gotta this ah place, but I did. Vongola Nono gave me tha' chance signorina and I'mma givin' yah ah chance. So ah, don think yah takin' avantage because you ah not," His facial expression is stern but at the same time, his eyes are genuinely caring and warm.

I just didn't know what to say, "Thank you."

His hand reaches for my own and pats it gently, "You'a be fine."

Moving away from the counter, Antonio inches towards the back area of the shop towards the staircase, "why don' I get yah a cup ah juice, yah thirsty no, signorina?"

I nod wordlessly and turn to look out the store front's window. The street is mostly quiet save for the chattering of women passing through and the occasional car driving by.

Antonio really reminds me of Nonno...

"I should never give up, huh." I mumble.

I should really get to calling him now that I moved from my old place. I'm about to pick up the receiver and place a call but the door to the shop swings open.

"Hello, welcome to..." My eyes widen at the figure standing in the doorway.

The silver glint of the chain sparkles from the maroon coat pocket with a familiar crucifix dangling at the end of the chain. His thick blonde curls gather in tufts and he looks down upon me with dangerous moss green irises. "Signora Amaranta Russo, you're coming with me."

I didn't know how the hell I was able to move my body because my mind is blanking out on me. Pushing myself away from the counter top, my "friend" charged forward to make a grab for me. Grabbing anything in my right hand, I launched what was a glass container of walnuts at the blonde's head.

Damn, I didn't know I had a good arm. Not to mention that I could actually aim something at the guy.

There was a loud crack when the glass shattered as it came into contact with his head. Droplets of red dotted the countertop and I knew I couldn't stay immobilized. Frantically, I instinctively grab onto more things I could get my hands on before he could move closer towards me.

A random bag of onions and a bottle of milk are flying through the air. The blonde dives forward, turning his head to the side to avoid another blow to the head.

I scramble backwards, nearly tripping over cans lying on the floor that I forgot to clean up after a bunch of kids ran around the store this morning. Fuck, should have cleaned up when I got the chance.

Bashing into the pyramid of limes, my hands reach behind me to grab onto the citrus fruit and throwing them as hard as I could at the large figure drawing closer and closer. Trying to gain distance, I quickly dart farther inside of the store towards the back exit.

I had to get out.

I had to get out.

I had to get out.

My heart pounding like crazy with the familiar rush of adrenaline in my veins, I am faced with the back door in front of me. Grabbing onto the handle of the door, I find that it's one hell of a piece of work to get open.

Looking over my shoulder, the blonde isn't too far behind. Making sure my grip was tight on the handle; I bash my shoulder into the old door to get it open. My shoulder is crying out in agony and I'm pretty fucking sure there'd be a huge ass bruise tomorrow.

Fuck, where was the fucktard when you needed him?

I almost fall flat on my face when the door opened from the outside. Looking upward, my nerves run up my spine and I feel cold. My eyes wide open in horror.

"Long time no see," Light blue irises pierce into me and I couldn't breathe.

No fucking...!

A concentrated amount of pressure crashes into the back of my neck. The pain spread through my body like wild fire and I feel heavy as I sink to the ground. My eyes roll to the back of my head and I see nothing.

**Yellow-Sama Says... **I've finally returned! It took me so long to get this one out, but I redeemed myself by making the chapter longer! Now that I have a summer job, I really have to get my priorities straightened. Another new update is that I opened a **Tumblr account** recently which houses my fanfiction crossover project, _Papier-Mâché_, interesting things I find on that site and it sort of acts as a journal about my personal life. My username is _xxyellow-sama_ because someone already took my name...

Moving on, I'm glad that you readers out there continue to support me even though I'm terrible at updating. So, thank you to my regulars, **10****th**** Squad 3****rd**** Seat**, **Juliedoo** and **Grace**. Plus, thanks so much to my new reviewers, **Sherbika**, **SheeplyHeavenBun** and **WinterGuardianAngel24**. Your thoughts are much appreciated and I hope the answers to your questions will unfold as the story progresses.


	10. Chapter 9

The hollowness in the pit of my stomach grows larger and threatens to consume me because it is the clear inevitable sign of knowing the danger of standing on the edge, so far from security and familiarity. If I take a single step forward, what would happen?

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**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: ** Euterpe (piano) – transcripted by Animenz

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The sound echoing throughout the entire room is a melody I don't recognize at all. It is soft and melancholy in my ear drums; it almost brought tears to my eyes, sadly I'm not a huge fan of piano music. Even so, it sent shivers down my spine like an icy cold torrent of rain. Each note pounded into my being and I'm left breathless. I watch him. Dressed all in white, the pianist's black hair contrasts against the colour that signifies purity and my eyes follow his fingers dancing lithely across the keys as he's playing.

The room is spinning, whirling out of control because I can see blotches of light and colour. I don't have motion sickness, thank gosh but, it's all too surreal to take in. There is this nagging buzzing in the left part of my brain, screaming out to me and trying to get me to escape from this place. But, I didn't understand why I felt so anxious.

The fuck is wrong with me...?

I blink and he's standing before me with his head tilted to stare me down. I almost mistook him for that guy, although it didn't surprise me that it wasn't Reborn. I mean, why the hell would he be here anyway? Even if he was, nah, I can't even picture him being here, alone with me.

_Fuck, where was the fucktard when you needed him? _

...That reminds me, why the hell am I here?

The stranger holds out his hand towards me, "Would you like to dance?"

Where the fuck is _here_?

I didn't know why, but my hand found his. My fingers become interlaced in the hand of the dark man and I am led onto a black and white checkered floor. We stand together, but my eyes don't reach him. Instead, they focus on the silky red tie hanging around his neck. Placing my hand upon his shoulder with his left hand which then rests comfortably at my waist; we begin to move as a single being.

"_Signora Amaranta Russo, you're coming with me."_

I'm a fucking horrible dancer because I have literally two left feet. I'm not graceful, in fact, I'm downright fucking clumsy. I can't stand following the directions of my partner but I didn't mind it right now oddly enough. I guess my mind couldn't properly assess the situation. I'm in a moment where your body can move freely all by itself even if it's still under the jurisdiction of your brain. I know, it's just so fucking weird but that's the best way I could explain the feeling. I don't recognize the steps I'm taking as the man is leading me across the dance floor. Stepping back, shifting with a turn and forward two paces, I can only hold onto his hand tightly when we move along.

_...My "friend" charged forward to make a grab for me. Grabbing anything in my right hand, I launched what was a glass container of walnuts at the blonde's head._

"Who are you?" The words form in my mouth, slip out from the tip of my tongue, spill out from my lips and he doesn't respond to me at all. Instead, he pulls me closer to his chest with the side of my face pressed against the red tie. The silky material feels cool to the touch, but I can't help feeling fucking perturbed. He spins me around and my body twists to the right. My right then left foot step back two steps and forward thrice.

_I scramble backwards, nearly tripping over cans lying on the floor that I forgot to clean up after a bunch of kids ran around the store this morning. Fuck, should have cleaned up when I got the chance. _

Why wouldn't he say anything? Who was this guy?

_I had to get out. _

I gasp as a wave of pain manifests on the side of my cranium. The fuck, why the fucking sudden headache? My eyes immediately close and I try to take soft even breaths to ease the reoccurring bursts of aching agony which slowly dissolves before returning with a vengeance. The tears burn at the corner of my eyes and threaten to fall off my eyelashes.

"_Long time no see," Light blue irises pierce into me and I couldn't breathe. _

**Damn it all! **

My eyes abruptly open wide and I glance up into the face of the stranger. The silent scream lodges itself in my throat, keeping me from taking a breath. The person's flesh is a dark bruised purple, worn out and wrinkled like wet leather. It is slowly melting off the sides of his cheeks and underneath his eye sockets, revealing the colour of wilting roses pulsating weakly under the skin. The sharp pungency reaches my nose and I instinctively want to fucking barf. His claw like nails digs into my arms and I struggle to pull away from his death grip. The nails drag down the side of my shoulders and leave red welts in their wake. His glassy white irises instill fear into my veins, making my blood run cold. A chill runs through me as goose bumps form on my skin and I'm left shaking.

Without any warning, I close my eyes and wrench myself as hard as I could away from that damned, damned **freak**. I bite down on my lip to drown the scream about to burst forth from my lungs and I swear, it fucking stings!

Pushing my body backward, my feet stumble as they try to keep me stabilized before I turn to run. But I don't find the solid ground beneath my left foot as my right heel presses off the darkness. I realize I'm falling. The hollowness in my stomach becomes that much more apparent to me and I feel weightless. The feeling fucking scares the shit out of me.

I'm falling.

I bring my arms up to grab onto something, anything.

I'm falling.

There's nothing I can grab onto.

I'm falling.

Fuck!

...I can't breathe.

My neck whips forward, suddenly bringing my head down which makes it harder for me to breathe. The tip of my chin barely touches my chest as I struggle to gulp down air. I feel the strain in my neck muscles and watch the rapid rise and fall of my chest. I'm fucking tugged backward and the air is knocked out from my body. My back lays flat on the ground and I'm paralyzed. Pain travels through my body and a weak moan passes through my lips. The light hits my eyes and I'm blinded.

What the hell...!

"Get. Up," The voice emphasizes each word uttered by its source. The tears slip out from the corners of my eyes and I spot them. The familiar moss green gaze that annoyed the fuck out of me since it's the bastard that keeps attacking me for no damn reason!

I couldn't pick myself up no matter what I did. The only tiny sound uttered through my gritted teeth is a tired groan.

"**GET UP**!"

A hand grabs onto the back of my hair and yanks me upward. The roots scream out in anguish and I yelp but my voice cracks. I reach my hands to release the blonde bastard's grip on me, but I can't summon up the strength. I gasp, trying to fill my lungs with air. But my throat constricts and the pressure which forms in my chest, forces my eyes wide open. I'm suffocating.

"Vili," The voice is light and calming, "please release her."

Vili slowly unfurls his fingers from my hair, letting the curls fall from his fingers where some single strands are left dangling. The back of my head hits the floor with a soft thud and I take a sharp intake of breath to bear the pain. I hear his footsteps move back and then stop. I couldn't help but curl up my body to protect myself from getting hurt again. My eyes shut tightly, too deeply afraid to even peek out and see who my so called 'hero' is.

A shadow falls over my body and two arms dip underneath my torso; I flinch upon contact, whimpering as the hot palms of the stranger press against the middle of my back. He is able to lift me up gently. Hesitantly, I open my eyes and the grey metal walls meet my gaze. It is sombre inside this place; the windows situated near the ceiling are four inch slits that barely allow streams of light to filter in. The smell of the musty dirt and dust fill my left nostril and I swallow the heavy lump of saliva and mucus down my throat. There aren't enough clues to make a fucking guess to where I was, but all I knew for sure is that I'm fucking trapped, again.

I blink twice to accommodate my sight to the darkness and focus on the person in front of me.

Chestnut brown eyes blink at me through long lashes and his brows are lightly furrowed in concern. His physical stature nearly fools me into thinking that he's a girl. His voice is faint in my ears, "Are you alright?"

By wearing that open button crisp white shirt, I spot it instantly. He probably left the top three buttons of the dress shirt undone on purpose, leaving the dark ink underneath the shirt for the entire world to see and dread. A large crucifix peeks out, extending from the top of his right shoulder blade down to where my eyes couldn't reach.

What the hell would the Sentenza want with me now? I mean, I fucking gave them the negatives of my news story. Did they bring me here to finish the job?

I unconsciously shudder and the man lifts me up so that I am standing on my own two feet. He leads me to sit on a rusty metal chair with the black paint peeling away as he takes his place on the opposite side of Vili near the dark maroon leather chair three feet away from me.

But even if they meant to kill me, why not at my old apartment or the damn car chase or at the grocery store when I was alone? Why keep me alive for so long? I know they're cold blooded killers who would have no trouble snuffing out the life I have left in me. Even if it's a game to them for kicks, it'd still be troublesome! Having kept close tabs on me like this, what were those bastards thinking?

It just didn't make...!

**OH SHIT. **

I didn't even notice how close Vili had been until I spot his right hand raised in the air to strike me. Instinctively, I grit my teeth and shut my eyes closed but the sharp impact of burning pain doesn't come. I could feel my blood curdle and I swear I'm sure that the taste of metal coats my taste buds. After waiting two or three seconds, I wasn't sure, but I hesitantly open my eyes to see the fucker frozen in his spot. His eyes flash with a murderous glint and I try not to breathe or else, I knew I'd fucking get mauled by a knuckle sandwich. He lowers his arm, probably swearing off under his breath in German for all I cared.

I glance down at my shaking hands that are clutching onto my legs for dear life. My knuckles are white under the faint light streaming in from the tiny windows. I swallow the drops of crimson on the tip of my tongue. I'm just glad that I wasn't dead yet. But, I had to fucking calm the shit down! I scan the entire room again for the way out. There isn't anywhere I could possibly run to. There wasn't anyone to help me... Well, fuck. **FUCK**.

A hand places itself comfortably on my shoulder and my body tenses at the slight contact. Hot breath dances across the back of my neck which makes the goose bumps form all over my skin. His voice is calm with a strange softness, implicating a dangerous undertone, "Don't be so shy, come now Signorina Russo, share your worries with us, won't you?"

Oh, I remember that voice. How the hell would I ever forget that voice? I didn't even have to bother turning around in my seat to know it's the light blue eyed bastard. Yep, he is the same jerk who attacked me in my apartment a few days ago. He lifts his hand off my shoulder, but his fingers teasingly travel up the side of my neck, tracing the contour of my jaw line so very lightly before hooking his middle and index fingers underneath my chin, tilting my head back to stare into his eyes.

"You're still so very delicate, hmm?" The bastard chuckles at the evident fear in my eyes when his fingers slip south, pressing down slightly at the base of my throat.

Moving his hand away, I could feel my body grow lax. As I heard his footsteps head towards the leather chair, my sweaty hands jerkily unfurl their fingers from clenched fists. I flex them, curling them inward then out to feel the soreness in the joints of each finger. The blue eyed bastard settles himself into his chair with his left leg crossing over his right ankle. The side of his left cheek presses against the knuckles of his left hand with its elbow resting on the chair's arm. He looks amused.

I try not to make my first comment the last one I'd ever make. The ticking German time bomb could blow at any moment and I'm pretty sure he isn't the only one that isn't willing for the kill. That's about right; I had always been at the Sentenza's mercy from day one.

I lick my dry lips before letting my curiosity indulge in the opportunity to dig its teeth in what appears to be the truth handed to me on a silver platter.

"You're the leader, aren't you?"

The blue eyed monster's response is the thin lipped smirk on his face. I took his silence to mean that I could continue with my questioning. I couldn't believe that I could stay so calm at this point, "What do you want from me?"

Immediately, the sound of his tone mocks me when he begins to respond, "Your cooperation, signorina Russo, since I'd hate to use force on an adorable young lady."

His eyes pierce into my own and I hesitate. My cooperation in doing what, I didn't think I had any particular skill in, you know, the whole mafia business. How would I benefit a bunch of murderers anyway?

"Tell me, signorina Russo, how is your grandfather?"

The little bubble of relief I felt in the short second in that I knew they couldn't, no, wouldn't kill me off so quickly burst. The onslaught of the confusion I feel transforms into an unfathomable, unbearable fear. I remain still and the fear coils in my chest and grips onto my heart.

I thought my voice would crack, but I'm surprised at how I could remain so calm, "Fine. Why?"

The blue eyed jackass chuckles again; boy, I found it so damn annoying!

"I am only curious, signorina Russo. Or may I call you, Amaranta?"

I chose not to say anything. I caught the dark glare from Villi.

"So, how close do you say you are with your grandfather?" The bastard is smirking cockishly, even though the mockery doesn't reach his eyes. In fact, his light blue eyes remain blank.

My tongue circles around in my mouth, brushing against my front teeth, "Close enough."

"You really think you two are that close?"He leans forward in his chair, bating me to react outwardly and say something I'd soon regret.

But, what the fucking hell was he getting at? What did Nonno have to do with the Sentenza?

From out of nowhere, Villi approaches Blue Eyes and closes the distance between him and the chair. He leans into his Boss's ear to mutter something in German.

Turning to gaze at the younger man, the blue eyed man orders his command, "Basilio, please escort Amaranta out. We have other business to attend to."

The guy, who rescued me from Villi "the Brute", Basilio, swiftly crosses the distance between us. From his back pocket, he procures a black silk cloth and uses it to block my sight. Wherever we are headed, he made sure that I wouldn't find out how to move around their base. I could hear the screech of a large door opening and shutting with a loud bang. My body moves forward and the sound of our footsteps resound off the walls. The thick heavy scent of musty grime in the air fills my nostrils and the taste of dust made me gag.

If I could just wrench my hand out of Basilio's, is it possible for me to escape? I didn't know what the guy is capable of and I didn't want to find out. He continues to drag me along another corner and I nearly fall down, but he catches me and holds me steady.

"Careful," He pushes my available hand to what feels like a wall as he's holding onto my left, "just slowly now."

It seems like forever just climbing down stairs, I have to feel the next step with the brush of my toes against it. I lean against the support of the wall as I do so. The wall comforts me because I know it's stable and solid. Basilio is a gentleman since he leads me down each step one at a time. Even though I'm safe for now, it fucking scared the shit out of me to put all my trust into the mysterious person in front me.

It is a different feeling compared to Reborn though. With that bastard, I didn't have any second thought. It was instinctual to leave my life in his hands, even though I knew he would kill me. I mean, the guy said it himself the first time we met.

I wonder if I'll make it out of here alive. I wonder if Antonio and Gio are alright. I swear to God, pleading for their safety because I could never forgive myself for hurting such wonderful people. I wonder if I'll see Nonno again. I wonder if I'll see _him_.

I laugh silently to myself. I must be going fucking crazy if I could still manage a smile. Anyway, the bastard better come and save me. I wonder why I place such faith in him. Is it because I know he'll do his job by order of the Vongola's Nono?

My train of thought is cut short once we stop moving. The physical connection between Basilio and I is severed when he releases my left hand. I wait there, listening to the soft clinking of the keys being removed from his pocket. If I just rip off the blindfold and run, could I make it? I'm too much of a coward to find out. A door is pushed open with a short whine and I'm gently pushed inside.

I didn't know what to expect right there and then. I merely stood like a fucking idiot in the middle of the doorway seeing as I couldn't see anything in front of me. There is a ghost of a touch brushing against the back of my neck as the blindfold slips off my eyes, sliding down the bridge of my nose, past my lips and settling on my collar bone around my neck like a scarf. Blinking my eyes, the room is dark, except for the light outside it streaming in behind our shadows. He flicks a switch on and there is a soft but distinct hum right before the entire room is enveloped in light. The room is bare and just by a glance, the sight would remind you of how you'd imagine a prison cell with its stained walls of mysterious questionable fluids splashed across the bottom and upper corners of the ceiling. There isn't anything in terms of furniture, besides a flat dingy mattress ripped apart at the seams, which is situated directly in front of the door, positioned eastward, right by the wall, and a wooden crate.

"You'll be staying here for the time being," Basilio motions for me to sit on the dirty excuse of a bed. I plop down, watching a dust cloud erupt from contact. He takes a seat on the box, not staring me in the face, but twiddling his thumbs as if he's waiting for something.

By the look of him, he didn't seem that much older then I. I would say that maybe he is younger, at least nineteen. A nineteen year old working for a crime syndicate, the thought itself never really seemed real to me, but the reality of it is practically bitch slapping me in the face. Assuming he joined for money, I didn't feel like asking for his reasons straight out, but the words come out once they formed in my head.

"So," He looks up at me from under his honey brown bangs, "why are you with the Sentenza?"

At first, I thought he wouldn't answer my question. I almost expect him to suddenly point a gun to my face and threaten to blast a hole in the middle of my forehead to make me shut up. Even so, I'm surprised that instead of causing me harm, he responds to my question.

"To defend people from the Mafia," There isn't the slight hint of conceit or deceit in his voice. His eyes shine with fervor and his sincere voice takes me aback. He answered my question so damn simply that it takes me a pause to process what he just said.

So, the Sentenza isn't a group of Mafioso nor are they associated with the big Italian mobsters. That tidbit of information seems to change the whole story but it's hard to tell if the guy is lying to me or not. Fuck, this is getting complicated.

"What do you mean by that?" If I'm going to get any answers, whether or not they would be the sort of truths that I'd like to hear, I'm forced to dig deeper.

He looks down at his hands and I catch the tan scars running over his wrists. His fingers clench into balled fists and the room becomes too quiet. I can hear the nonexistent pulsing of the blood running through my body and the hum from the lights attached to the ceiling.

In the pit of my stomach forms a wave of dread that rises into my chest. I don't know if I regret asking this kid about...

I know I shouldn't pry further into Basilio's private life. Even though he's a part of the Sentenza, he's still unrelated to me. The fact of the matter is I'm scared of knowing more than I should. It shouldn't even bother me in the first place because I'm used to hearing a whole load of depressing crap as a journalist. It was my job to expose circumstances for what they really were. But, because I know deep down that this kid isn't fucking around, the mortifying nightmare he lived through is that much more real to me.

It looks like it takes every ounce of self control for Basilio to speak, "My father, he always had trouble with money. It was his biggest mistake to trust the Mafia to help him. When he couldn't pay up the debt, they came after my mother, my sister and I. They took away my family and my home from me when I was eleven. I can't ever forgive the Mafia for what they've done! I just can't allow that to ever happen to anyone else!"

His chestnut brown irises shone with his resolve and conviction; I didn't know what to say to the young man. I'm fucking speechless. His voice is demanding every bit of my attention. His tone is bitterly cold and I see how he struggles not to unleash all of his hatred.

"All the problems happening now are because of the Mafia! They lie and steal from the innocent! No one is safe from their dastardly hands! But, it was Alessio that took a stand to defend the people! He built the Sentenza to fight for the people when no one ever could!"

For all I know, he could just be spouting crap to throw me off, but the young man sounds so damn convincing. Was he brainwashed into thinking that causing mayhem in the streets is a valid and justifiable means in order to defend the interests of the people? It just didn't sit well with me at all. The look of distaste on my face prompts Basilio to continue.

"I know you may think that the Sentenza's ways of dealing with the Mafia is just as barbaric as their actions. But we had no other option. They only understand power through force and bloodshed. I wish there are other ways, but there aren't. Negotiating with them didn't work; we were left with this alternative."

I mumble, "I see."

He immediately turns to look down at his tan brown loafers. Clearing his throat, Basilio's voice reverts back into its soft tone, "I apologize. I didn't mean to be so..."

I found that I couldn't blame the kid. From what he's been through, hell, I probably would have reacted in the same way.

I shake my head, "It's alright."

A silent pause filters into the tiny space and the kid's unnerving words still rang within me. Would it be too risky to trust any more of what Basilio says? He is the only person here who's willing to talk straight with me, instead of fucking around with my head. The miniscule sound of doubt is left unheard by the hungry wailing of curiosity which overwhelms my inhibition.

"Do you know by any chance," I begin the question and hesitate. Would he even be capable of answering my question?

His eyes are expectant in the good way. It isn't exactly the same eyes as when your dog is waiting for you to throw the red rubber ball into the air for him to catch, but the sort of eyes your best friend would gaze at you with.

I try again, taking a breath, "Do you know why and how my grandfather is associated with the Sentenza?"

Basilio ponders over my inquiry for a moment. His brows furrow in concentration and his eyes slightly squint as if he's processing through old recollections for the truth I sought after.

In a short amount of time afterward, he confesses, "I don't recall anything. Only that, he left, but I don't remember why. Vili says that he betrayed the Sentenza years ago and ran away like a coward."

With that being said, I know that I would have to ask Nonno myself once I got out of here. I couldn't press Basilio for more answers since a dark skinned man dressed in khaki coloured clothes and shiny brown boots enters the room. He motions Basilio over to him with a nod of his head who responds to the gesture by rising from his seat, approaching the man.

The door closes shut behind them, their voices becoming whispers as their footsteps move further and further away from the door. I'm left alone in the room. This is my opportunity, I realize, I get up from the old mattress and step towards the door of my prison. There's a good chance that the door may lock from the outside once it shuts. My right hand grasps the knob of the door and my heart is thumping wildly in my chest. I know that the Sentenza wouldn't hurt me, but the same couldn't be said about anyone else I'm close to.

My wrist turns the knob and I push against the door to find it opens easily. They probably thought I wouldn't try to escape.

Fuck, my knees and arms are quaking. Ignoring the tremors of my limbs, I pour all my strength into moving from behind the door of my prison into the empty hallway. My feet are pressed closed together once I shut the door behind me. Carefully, I glance from both ends of the hallway, squinting for any slight movement. I'm lucky, there isn't anyone.

Now the only problem is, is in which direction do I head for. I mentally decide to take the path on my right and I take small cautious steps. I reach the corner and press my side against the wall. My eyes search the hall leading to a dead end. There is another door which adjoins the corner I'm hiding behind. I'm guessing it's another little prison cell.

Stepping backward two paces, I spin around and go down the opposite direction. There is a set of steps that I remember climbing down. My feet tiptoe up the staircase into yet another fucking hallway. It's a damn maze in here and I didn't know if I have enough time to find my out quickly enough before a guard comes down to check on me.

I go with my gut and move towards my left. There are doors on either side of me as I stride through the empty hallway. I keep moving, never stopping. Damn, I'm getting fucking tired. I press my body against a wall for a moment, catching my breath. It's weird since I hadn't done much moving around in the past few hours and now, I feel like I've exhausted every part of my body.

My body stiffens at the immediate sounds of voices coming from where I was before. I couldn't catch the discussion but I knew, someone is looking for something. I didn't want to take any chances and knowing my shitty ass luck, I sure am not getting any freebies from whoever the hell throws me into these ridiculous situations!

My aching feet drag themselves across the ground and the rhythm of my footsteps forces me into a light jog. I see this huge dark gray metal door in front of me and stop right in front of it. There is a chill permeating from whatever is behind the door and I hear the snapping of a trigger.

I gulp, feeling the strange mucus-like consistency of my saliva sliding down the back of my throat.

Don't stop now Amaranta, I encourage myself.

The voices from behind me grow louder in volume and a rush of electricity runs through my spine. It is a painful tingling sensation that springs from the bottom of my heels up to my neck. It looks like I didn't have any choice but to move ahead.

I take a hold of the doorknob and push the door forward. The mechanisms of the door screech to life as the door opens inch by inch. I barely get it to open enough for me to squeeze through and there are loud cracks of gunfire in the air.

I wrench myself hurriedly through the space I've made myself and I'm horrified.

This is what hell must look like.

The entire place is a mess with cargo boxes, battered and broken on the floor in pieces as if an arsonist went and blew up the place. The ground itself is splattered in red, glittering with shards of glass and I didn't dare look at the bodies littering the ground. They are like fallen leaves from a beautiful auburn tree in autumn. It is the only nice thing I can compare them to. I couldn't, I just couldn't.

Oh god.

I spot the glint of the barrel aimed at my face and I'm left motionless. But I see it. I see the man fall before I even blink. The bullet pierces through from the back of his head, exiting from the middle of his forehead. A thin red ribbon streams through the open wound. The man's eyes roll into the back of his head. He collapses head first. The red pools outward.

Oh god.

I bite down the sensation of screaming before I even take the breath to fill my lungs. My body is trembling uncontrollably, the sob wrenches itself from my lips and I can't support myself. My knees and then legs go down first. I stare and stare long and hard.

Oh god.

I am fascinated. The fear is swept away and all there is left is some kind of sick fascination at the body in front of me. I swallow and my throat hurts. My palms and brow are coated in sweat.

It is so hot. How did it get so hot in here?

The tears leak from the corners of my eyes and burn my senses.

Would I die the same way in here if I get caught or would I go through something far more drastic and cruel? What would have happened if he did shoot me?

I couldn't bear the thought. The tears drip down my cheeks, down my chin and down onto my hands.

**Oh god. **

* * *

******Yellow-Sama Says... **My summer has really been eventful and I've written some small things on my Tumblr if anyone has been checking that out recently. But I have come with a new update and hopefully, it is to your tastes. It ends on a you-know-what, but I wanted to cut the chapter down to make it manageable for myself and for your reading pleasure. I'm working on the next section of what used to be chapter nine onto chapter ten - wow double digits!

Now for my shoutouts: **Juliedoo**, **SheeplyHeavenBun**, **sourapple2000** and **Sherbika**. Thanks for staying around. Your words give me the "oomph" I need to pick myself up and write, write, write! In addition, to my new reviewers, **TheKawaiiStar21**, **TheEbilBunni** and **Anon**, thank you for taking the time to write your reviews and continue to look after me.


	11. Chapter 10

If only it was as easy as peeling away the final piece of clothing from your raw skin, but your sensory memory having already adapted to the distinct brush of the material sliding down your limbs makes you unaware of the action. However, this certain memory imprints itself in your head and you can never really be rid of it. It'll stay there, whether you like it or not.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: **Seirios – Rurutia

* * *

I know I'm awake but I'm not moving at all. All I can think about is the carcass in front of me and how quickly his life is snuffed out. My limbs are heavy, too heavy for me to raise myself off the ground. The tears streaming down my cheeks don't stop because I know that I would die at any given moment. My shoulders are trembling and my throat is dry. I try to breathe but one of my nostrils is blocked and it annoys the hell out of me.

Fuck, how stupid could I be? I'm a complete moron for even thinking that I would be safe, wandering around this place in the hopes of escaping! Promises are empty words that hold no meaning in the Mafia world. I'm expected to know that already and yet, I'm still oblivious.

Shouts of pain and despair echo once the sound waves bounce across the entire room, rebounding off the walls and floor. My shaking hands find themselves gripping onto my arms for dear life. I make myself small which is a feeble pathetic attempt to protect myself.

His shadow casts over my frame and I know it's him. I know it's him by the way my stomach muscles clench and tighten up with my heart pounding erratically in my throat. I release a shuddering breath from my cracked lips and I close my eyes, letting the last of my tears flow which leave a dry crusty trail down my face.

His breath is warm. I open my eyes to see him and his hand is stretched out towards me. Something inside of me panics, my breath hitches and I recoil from his gesture. My eyes are wide with something akin to fear and I'm sure that if he had touched me, the shock would hit me tenfold. His eyes knowingly acknowledge my tiny mannerism and by consequence, he stops himself short and crouches down to study me instead.

I didn't know why I reacted like that.

I thought he'd make a joke about me looking like absolute crap. He could have reiterated the fact that I'm an idiot for trusting murderers and how I could have easily died in the blink of an eye. He could have given me hell, been annoyed or beyond furious toward me. He may as well have spit out the harshest bit of acidic words or yell at the top of his lungs. He isn't though; instead he doesn't say a word.

I bet he knows of how badly I feel right now. I suspect he's enjoying me feeling like fucking crap, but there's a part of me that somehow believes the opposite, that Reborn isn't a heartless jackass.

Two arms wrap around my torso and lift me up without the slightest hint of difficulty. The familiar smell of his cologne fills my lungs and my nerves aren't skyrocketing out of control. I lean my head against his shoulder and the tears don't come. Cradling me in the safety of his embrace, I think that if I were in the mood, I could have sworn I felt like a princess being carried off by her prince charming. But this isn't the time to be kidding around and to daydream about useless fantasies. I know that I'm definitely not a princess, hell; I'm the damsel-in-distress who wants out of this damn nightmare! Reborn, well, he sure isn't a knight or a prince. He would always remain the dark stranger in my photographs, my _commare secca_. The alias I dub him hardly creates this image of a heroic figure that any girl would dream about. Even so, he is one, one that is tainted by the sin of a Mafioso.

With his palms, he pushes me away but leaves his hands on my shoulders. Sliding his fingers down the length of my arms, his charcoal black eyes are pulling me in and I'm lost in them. His fingers soon interlace with my own and I find myself back at the moment when we first met.

"We're moving," His voice is just as silky as I remember, yet there is something different about it too and I couldn't discern how or why it did. I just didn't understand anything at that point.

Before my mind could really process what the fuck was happening, my wobbly legs were moving on their own accord, to the pace of the death reaper. I couldn't put my finger on it. He seemed like an entirely different person after stating that one sentence. His fingers entangle themselves in my own and I feel the warmth permeating from his palm. It does nothing to soothe my nerves or the pit of fear in my stomach. But, I'm glad that he is here, even if I didn't say it aloud. It's still retarded of me to even think that he could genuinely be worried about me. Fuck, I'm losing it.

I don't nod or physically acknowledge the fact that I understood what was said. All of my energy seems like it's been drained out of my entire body, leaving me like an empty shell of a person. Hell, I don't even think I wanted to inch another step forward or to even breathe. Regardless, he took my silence as a confirmation to his unspoken inquiry and we started to move. Step after step, I feel my consciousness slipping away from my body and it came to the point where I had no control over my actions. All I know is that I'm moving my feet to wherever the commare secca is leading us. The sight before my eyes is rapidly becoming more blurred and distorted. The left side of my head is throbbing.

We swerve into a corner of the room, passing around large crates, lifeless forms either lying face down or slumped against each other creating a pile of human corpses and a carpet of red streaks. I breathe hard and try not to look or else, I'm fucking sure that I wouldn't be able to go on forward. So many lives, good or bad, wiped out in probably mere seconds by him. I don't want to think that I'm leaving my life in the hands of someone who's capable of stealing it by using only a single bullet to pierce through my cranium. Worrying about it now isn't going to help because it would only make me stressed out. I feel sick and I'm starting to hate the colour flooding my sight.

"Keep your eyes open."

That's a pretty fucking tall order coming from someone like him. Excuse me for being a little country bumpkin coming into the city to look for a job and landing myself into an early grave! It isn't my fault that I wanted to be respected in my field by chauvinistic bastards who think that those who have a uterus are inferior!

I don't know how I gather enough strength to rant in my mind like this. I focus all my attention on my feet as the movement of my legs quicken along to Reborn's brisk pace. I'm doing all I could do to keep myself sane.

There is another door similar to the one I pushed through to enter this metal walled "graveyard" and we pass right through it. I don't dare look up to survey our surroundings for fear of regurgitating my innards onto the ground and that wouldn't have been a pretty sight.

He drags me around the next corner leading to another corridor with numerous doors on either wall. How on earth anyone knew how to navigate around this place is something I could never fathom.

I blankly stare at Reborn whose eyes flicker over at me before returning to study the problem at hand.

He smirks, "Don't underestimate me, I know what I'm doing."

I didn't doubt his words.

The movement was too fast for my eyes that my mind couldn't possibly process what happened in that second.

A crater formed in the ground where Reborn stood, but he is already two feet away from where he originally placed himself, unharmed and immaculate. Then it came, the onslaught of jagged stones are launched at Reborn's head but each of his steps are meticulous and quick, evading all the projectiles aimed at vital points on his body.

I stand in place and barely move a muscle. I gulp down on the bit of saliva on my tongue but I couldn't force down the liquid into my throat. My fingers are burning as if trying to warm themselves from the inevitable chill running throughout my body. An electric shock caused by the nerves in my body ran from my spine up to the base of my neck.

I look down at my body and I'm surprised I wasn't hit with any sort of debris. That deadly accuracy could only mean one thing for sure, whoever the hell wanted to kill Reborn wanted to make sure that he was dead the moment the force hit him on impact.

Although Reborn's complexion mirrored the calmness of the sea, his charcoal coloured eyes seethed like violent waves crashing onto land, wasting no time in destroying anything and everything in its path. A loud brash laugh comes from behind us and I slowly look up to see the hulking wall of a man, Vili, bearing his shiny silver gauntlets up to his chin. The blonde is ready to strike at any given moment and the crazed look in his moss green eyes emphasizes his blood lust.

"Don't worry," His thick German accent rolls off his tongue, "you'll be next Signorina Russo."

I flinch in response. I could barely even imagine how the pain of his attack might be if it connected to real bone and flesh. I am going to die. I am really going to die here. The feel of Reborn's calloused fingers curling around my own brings me back to reality.

"You'll have to catch us first," Reborn calls from over his shoulders and I find my legs moving forward. I don't know how we could be moving so fast down the hallway. It is a miracle in itself that I didn't trip on anything just yet. It's more like my body is being dragged on by Reborn, tugging at me to keep on moving. I let out huge breaths as I run and I could feel the burning sensation surge through my thighs down to my calves and finally to my feet. We swerve into another corner with a door in front of us. Reborn wastes no time in kicking down the door with ease before leading us to wherever the hell he is taking us. The ground trembles underneath my feet and I could hear the distinct rhythmic stomping of Vili's footsteps stalking after us. I try not to focus on the fear that is gnawing at my insides and throwing my mind into disarray. The door in front of us opens and leads to a case of stairs. Reborn races up the stairs and sees that I'm slowly using my momentum. My feet are stinging and I think I may have a cramp on my right foot. Boy, it feels like an utter bitch!

Reborn stops himself for a mere second and watches me as I pass him by three steps. He pushes me forward with one arm; I stumble on the steps ahead but catch myself on the railing. Dragging myself further and further upward, I could tell that Reborn wanted me to focus on running. There was still a long way to go before we reached the top.

A sharp shrill sound echoes and a flash of red light appears in the corner of my vision. I'm forcefully pulled to the wall and I let out a loud screech through my cracked lips. My head is sore and my eyes couldn't focus on anything properly. Everything is too blurry to make out any distinct shapes.

I'm pulled back before I could move the slightest bit forward. I blink my eyes more than once and I could see why. A large chunk of the staircase is apparently missing, making our exit impossible to reach. My eyes couldn't help but peer down below to see the rubble and cloud of dust that originally pieced together the platform we were on with the remaining bit of staircase leading to the roof of the building.

This is it, we were totally fucked.

"We're not," Reborn hisses, "when I tell you to jump, _jump_."

My widened eyes speak for me in the little interval of silence we have.

I know Reborn was crazy, but I didn't know the fucker was an insane madman!

"No place left to run, rats?" Vili calls up from below.

I shake my head frantically left to right with tears somehow streaming down my red eyes, I croak, "I can't." I repeat the two worded phrase as if it's a magical mantra meant to keep me safe from harm.

With both of his palms, he slaps them against the sides of my dirt crusted and bruised face. "Do you want to live?"

"I-I..." The feel of his curls tickles me.

His voice becomes more insistent as he pronounces each word through his teeth, repeating his previous inquiry, "Do you want to live?"

OF COURSE I DO.

"Then do it." His eyes glitter sharply, "_Jump_."

The empty weightlessness in my stomach makes it seem like I'm falling forward as I push myself off the wall to lunge forward. I didn't think, I couldn't think. If I did, I would only worry more and doubt myself.

Like I said, it was a miracle in itself.

My arms shoot out and grab onto the ledge. My feet dangle from below me and I push myself onto the end of the staircase with my elbows. Once I get my torso onto the third step, I grasp onto the metal railing that creaks at the added weight it has to endure because of me. I groan while I pull all my will power into managing another ounce of strength from inside me and getting my legs up onto the staircase. I wiggle upward and I think I may have even lost a shoe. Yep, only one shoe is still intact.

The loud booming roars and yells echo from behind me, but I block them out. I have to. Red and yellow streaks of light flash and they look eerily beautiful as the sight dances across my pupils. I close my eyes and let out a yelp as my feet find the bottom of the staircase. It is then that I let myself go. I am heavily panting against the stone steps, pressing my stinging cheeks against the cold rock. My nostrils are both blocked and I'm gulping down as much musty air as I can, but wind up coughing my lungs up my throat. My whole body trembles and I can't move for a while. Even so, I knew I had to keep going.

My knees and arms are fully scraped red and with the palms of my hands, I push my upper body off the staircase. Placing one hand on the wall and holding onto the railing with the other, I manage to regain balance on my feet. My knees are wobbly. I'm unsteady as I move forward, but the adrenaline pulsing in my blood helps things and my hand latches itself onto the door knob of the metal door.

My wrists turn and the door is open. Unexpectedly, the wind pushes me backward and I grit my teeth as I hold onto the doorknob and push the damn thing open all the way. I stumble forward and fall onto my knees, with my hands on the ground.

I cough and cough. The sunlight beats down on me and I feel grateful that it is daylight outside. The wind forcefully pushes my hair down the back of my neck and my eyes continue to water, blurring my sight with blobs of colour. The deafening whirring of the blades atop the contraption in front of me is what surprises me. The blazoning gold emblem on the side of the door to the helicopter is something I should have recognized it, but didn't.

"What are you waiting for, go!" Reborn shouts from above me and lifts me to my feet. Wrapping an arm around my torso and pinning me to his side, the door of the helicopter slides open and Reborn pushes me in. I collapse against the seat and the next moment, everything is blocked out.

* * *

The smell of antiseptic is something I've always hated because it reminded me of hospitals. I hate hospitals. Bad things always happen in hospitals.

The cold sensation of the metal circular thing presses into my chest underneath my shirt, "Breathe."

I inhale and then exhale loudly.

"You're alright, Ms. Russo. But I have to warn you not to overwork yourself so much." The doctor nods at his 'sound' advice and continues to speak down to me like a child.

I nod, but I don't say anything.

The doctor leaves once he's done with his lecture, the guy must really love his voice to keep talking my ear off. I clench and unclench my bandaged fists, lifting a hand to press against the large bandage pasted onto my left cheek. I should have known better but the soft sting on my cheek reminds me that what happened really did happen and that I didn't imagine it all.

My head hangs low and my hair drapes over the sides of my face. I close my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. I let myself fall backward on the bed and I open my eyes to stare at the ceiling. It is pure white like the sheets of the bed. It annoys me.

The door opens again and he steps in.

"What did you learn?" I didn't want to answer and I didn't want to listen to his voice. I knew he wouldn't let this go. He'd make me spill every little detail, but I have to make it clear, I'm not in the mood for talking.

He approaches the bed, cocking the green gun in between my eyes, just like he did the first time.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

What a major mood swing from that heroic bit he showed there.

He stares down at me, "Well?"

Not wasting any moment in telling Reborn of how I was told that the Sentenza were out for all mafia organisations and who the head honcho was. What I didn't mention was Nonno. I couldn't bear if the Vongola were to go ahead and track him down. I couldn't do it. Not to Nonno, never to Nonno.

The thought of him made other concerns rise in me, "Where's Antonio and Gio? Are they safe? Are they okay?"

The guilt eats me up inside. Like a cold knife, the guilt stabs into my skin, ripping every inch of security away and leaves me bare naked. The grocery shop must have been wrecked up and not to mention, the state Antonio and Gio were in. In the little time we spent together, they were like family to me.

"Do you want to see them?" Reborn blankly looks down at me.

Of course I wanted to see them. Why would he ask that unless...? Unless what?

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

The words naturally come to me, "Take me to them."

With his opposite hand, he reaches it out to me and I take it. My back lifts from the bed and I sit at its edge. I release my grip on Reborn to put on the paper slippers on my feet. Carefully, I stand on my two legs and inch towards the door.

Reborn silently walks in front of me, leading me up a case of stairs. I felt I wasn't moving quickly enough so I try to speed my pace but slip and fall onto my knees. _La commare secca_ glances back and watches me struggle with my quaking legs and trembling arms. He didn't offer any help and I didn't need any of it. I could get up by myself and I would get to Antonio and Gio by myself if I had to.

The room number of Antonio's room is floor four, sixth on the left. I hesitate before going in. What would his reaction be if he saw me? Would he be angry with me? I would be and I couldn't possibly blame the old man. I felt my resolve to see Antonio falter.

"Go in." I turn to look at Reborn whose arms are crossed against his chest. His fedora is hanging over his eyes and it looks as if he is resting against the wall beside Antonio's room. "He wants to see you too."

I gulp and take one step inside, then another.

He is sitting in a wheel chair, staring outside the window of his room. I don't think he's heard me come in. I take another step forward.

"Antonio?" I murmur. He doesn't hear me. I clear my voice and that is the point where he turns and stares at me with overjoyed tears in his eyes. He raises his arms out to me and I can't help but sob. I rush over to him, crashing down to my knees and embrace his small thin frame.

I keep repeating the word "sorry" over and over, even though I know the word didn't mean enough. Everything that came from my mouth couldn't rewrite the past, hell, they couldn't soothe the pain Antonio must be feeling! I couldn't suppress the overwhelming sorrow in my chest. The tears kept coming and soon my words were no longer coherent. All I could manage were tiny moans of babble. Antonio only nods his head in understanding and whispers back to me sweetly, saying that it was alright. He tells me that he is fine and that Gio is fine. He tells me that I didn't have to worry about anything. But nothing about this situation was right. It was my entire fault and I knew it! I knew how guilty I was! Antonio is just being too kind and it hurt! I deserved every bit of punishment for causing this man and his son grief. I deserved it.

A hand wrenches me from Antonio's grasp and I fall back on my behind.

"Get away from my father!" The tone of the voice makes me heart stop. Gio is glaring down at me with eyes that made my blood run cold. His head is wrapped in gauze but that is not the only thing that saddens me. His right arm is wrapped in a sling.

"G-Gio, I..."

"Save it," The words that followed were spit out in poisonous anger, "I don't want to hear it. Just get out! GET OUT! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE."

"Georgio, enough," Antonio exclaims, "Do you not see that...!"

Gio laughs cruelly, "Really? You're taking her side, after what she's done to you?! Father, she ruined your life, she ruined our lives! I bet she doesn't even feel the least bit sympathetic about what she's done! All she's done was make our lives harder to bear! She never liked working at our shop! And if you hadn't noticed it, our shop is destroyed because of her! You are injured because of her, father! You can no longer walk! Open your eyes! She's a damn menace! She needs to go! We don't need her! We've never needed any of her help!"

I couldn't take the blame. As much as I knew that I deserved every word, I couldn't face it. I turned and ran from the room, down the hallway, ignoring the yells of Antonio and the uncontrollable rage that had built up inside of Gio. I'm coward for not facing the punishment that I so wanted to endure. Fuck. It was my fault and there was nothing I could do about it! I scrambled down the set of stairs and kept going. I didn't know where I was headed.

I sink down to the ground and weep, covering my face with my hands. I ignore the looks I get from other patients and visitors alike, but no one says anything. I'm thankful enough that people cared less about me, because if they did, I would only wail harder.

I didn't know how long I stayed on the floor, letting my tears dry to the point where I couldn't possibly shed anymore.

A gentle hand caresses my back and another help me pull myself to my feet. My head is spinning but once I focus my attention on the person in front of me, it's her.

She wordlessly smiles at me and leads me to sit down on a chair. Patting my head, I lean against her side and feel the comforting warmth only a mother would have. I curl myself closer to her to revel in it, letting my problems drift away as I'm soothed by her presence. I know, it's weird to seek comfort from a complete stranger, but then it's not as if I didn't know her. I'd seen her before, sitting in the cafe with Reborn. With a large white hat that is now absent from her dark blue hair. She is still wearing the white dress she wore when she was meeting Reborn for a cup of coffee.

Now that I realize it, she has a large bump protruding from her belly. Oh god. She's a pregnant woman! Not that I have anything against pregnant women, but god, they were scary! I mean, having random outbursts, mood swings and odd cravings while carrying a living thing inside their body for nine months straight is something I know that I could never do! Holy shit! I think the thing moved inside her! Oh god! I didn't want to see or feel that! EW!

A light giggle rumbles from her throat, "She'll be coming out soon."

Oh hell.

Lifting my head from her shoulder, I reluctantly space myself away from Reborn's acquaintance.

Crap, does that mean Reborn is married to this woman? But wait neither he or she is wearing a ring! Oh shit! Did he get her knocked up and refusing to marry her? That sonofagun! But maybe, she's refusing to marry him? But why, I know that I couldn't possibly imagine Reborn to be a father or a caretaker of someone, still, the unborn baby should have a father!

"Are you feeling any better?" The woman smiles at me warmly and her brows are slightly furrowed with worry.

"Y-yeah," I nod, "I-I'm fine."

"No need to be so formal, I'm a friend of Reborn's." Her blue eyes reassure me that this is the case, even if I already knew that she knew that I knew that already.

"Oh..."

Really, is that all I could muster as a response? Oh? I sound like a complete and utter moron.

"I'm sorry if this is too forward of me to say but, it'll be alright." The woman calmly nods, "Yes, you have nothing to worry about, Ms. Russo."

I nod, unsure of what to say. How much did Reborn tell this woman...?

Her blue eyes widen, "I apologize, I've forgot to introduce myself. My name is Luce."

She holds her hand out to me to shake my own, and I do so, "Call me Amaranta."

Why the hell did I say that? Oh gosh, she has magical powers, doesn't she? She's a mind reader like Reborn, shit!

Luce nods happily, "I'm rather happy that we're finally acquainted."

"Really?" without meaning to sound sceptical, the little rise in my voice at the end of the word didn't help my case at all.

She nods, "Yes."

"Luce," Reborn barges into the conversation, "...so this is where you were."

Luce sends _la commare secca_ a guiltless smile, "You caught me."

"You know you're not supposed to be..."

"I know, but I need to walk around, Reborn. It keeps me and the baby happy." Luce's smile brightens, "Besides, I've wanted to speak to Amaranta for a while. Why haven't you ever introduced us?"

Reborn scoffs, "Is there a reason to?"

Well, gee, ignore and insult me while I'm listening in to your conversation. Tsk, jackass.

"I guess I must be going then," Luce sighs, "It was nice to see you Reborn, Amaranta. I'm sure we'll see each other soon."

Reborn carefully aids Luce in getting out of her chair and leaving me behind for a moment. I slump back into my own chair and notice how Reborn treated Luce as if she was made of glass or porcelain. He was rather nice to me during the incident and did me a favor for finding...

I didn't want to think about it anymore.

"Hey," I look up to see Reborn looking down at me, "we're leaving."

He completely ignores my look of confusion and proceeds to move along without me.

I sigh in an aggravated manner, the least he could fucking do was wait for me! Huh, I think he got yelled at by Luce...

"Get moving or I'm leaving you behind." He calls out and I hurry to catch up to him.

For one thing, I always thought that the inside of a man's "pad" would be a lot messier in my head. For one thing, I was right and wrong at the same time. It was a clean place mind you, but the walls are covered in photographs of men and women and a large map pinned to them. The tabletop in the dining area is cluttered with papers. The apartment itself is small, similar to how small my own was but bigger. There's a small kitchen area and a door to his bedroom and a door to the bathroom. I'm wondering if the third is also another bedroom.

"Sit here and don't touch anything," He states before leaving the apartment, "I mean it."

"Where are you going?" I ask and what do you know, he has the courtesy to actually answer my question properly.

He pauses, "Business."

Gosh, staying around this guy makes it harder for me to like monosyllabic responses. It drives me up the freaking wall!

The door shuts behind him and I'm left alone. I don't really get how he can trust me to stay put in his apartment. For all he knew, I could run off. But then, how easy would it be for me to get into more trouble than I am in already?

I circle the apartment, staring at the photographs on the walls. Most, if not, all the pictures are familiar to me because they were all criminals on the news. I suppose it's an idea to keep him organized and to remember every face that he would potentially kill one day.

...I've spending too much time with Reborn in the mafia world.

I settle myself on the couch and put my head in my hands. Now what do I do?

The idea arises before I think of it, Nonno. I should really check on him.

If the Sentenza knew all this information on him, then that would mean that they know where he is. If they didn't, they would have questioned me, but didn't.

The familiar heart wrenching sense of panic sets in and I reach for the telephone. I ring up his number and I wait for the connection to establish itself.

Come on, come on.

Pick up the phone, Nonno.

I glance at the clock in the small kitchen area; it was only six o'clock in the evening. Nonno would be preparing dinner for himself right about now. He'd most likely be eating the usual meal of sweet corn.

I waited and waited.

There was no response on the other line.

* * *

**Yellow-Sama Says**... This is long awaited chapter and I really wanted to update this chapter the last weekend. But I found that today was the day where I felt the most motivated to finish this chapter. It may have the feel of being unpolished and rushed, so I apologize for that. It may appear that Amaranta is very much bi-polar in this chapter because of the events that have occured. Thus, I don't know if I liked how this chapter turned out.

In any case, I'd like to congratulate myself for making it (finally) to the double-digit chapters, it makes me satisfied to know how far I've come... I know it doesn't appear to be so much for other fanfiction writers. OTL

Onto the shoutouts, thanks to all my reviewers:** crazyblondefanfictionlover10 1**, **Sherbika**, **Grace (Something Written)**, **TheKawaiiStar21**, **Viper's Girl** and **TheAnonReturns**. It's crazy of me to have up to 45 reviews for a fanfiction and I'm proud to have a faithful readership! I can't apologize enough for being a really really horrible updater. Not to forget, I'd like to thank my ghost readers also for their support for this project. Again, thank all you so much!

For that reason (and for shameless self-promotion), I do have other projects on my Tumblr if you hadn't already checked it out and don't worry, I made sure to organize everything so, it'd be easier to find my own works amid all my particular interests found via Tumblr. Please check my profile to get hooked up.


	12. Chapter 11

To move forward or head backwards were the only two options I could choose between. No, that isn't right. I always had more options than the ones I initially mentioned, but not one of them has ever done me any good. So, here I am, no longer stuck in the crossroads stretching out toward oblivion but standing in a long corridor with two doors at either end. The question was this, which way would lead me to a place where I had meaning?

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

**Song Inspiration: **Sleep My Dear – The Big O OST

* * *

I almost miss the question that the operator asks me from the other end of the line, "Hello?"

"Oh, yes. Please." My grip on the phone receiver tightens to the point where the flesh of my hand turns white. They couldn't have gotten to him. No, I doubted it, but then again, maybe I was lying to keep myself from growing insane. He must be okay; I repeat the positive hopeful thought in my head.

He has to be okay. He has just got to be.

The seconds feel like hours weighing down on me. The tense atmosphere reminds me of the time when I had my first deadline at my old job and that fucker of a boss said to redo my story to fit his tastes or I could try finding work as a hooker on the streets. God damn… Even though I can still complain about the past, those days seem so much simpler than the hell that I'm living through now.

Thankfully, the redial attempt patches through after the second ring.

A gruff voice barks out viciously from the other side, "Yeah, who's this? The 'ell yah want? I was takin' a shit!"

"Nonno, it's me." I wanted to laugh, but the heavy lump in my throat forbade me. My voice must have sounded so feeble to him, I sound so different from what I have imagined in my own head.

He cries out and I'm forced to move the receiver away from my ear, "Mia bambina, FUCK, why does it take so long for yah tah call home, eh? Heh, don't botha' makin' excuses, yah hear?"

I hesitate and my throat constricts on itself. I feel the immediate burn across my eyes and the tears flood my dry tear ducts. It hurts me; it really fucking hurts me that I can't tell my nonno what was wrong and having to lie. If only I could say something, so that he'd give me pretty awful advice, along the lines of "sock tha' basterd" or "suck it up and do it".

If I did say something, how would he react? What would happen from this point on? What would happen to us? If he tells me about his history with the Sentenza, would my impressions of my nonno change? Would it matter to me? Would it matter to him?

There were too many variables that I'm unsure of. I feel so scared of messing up our relationship because he's the only person I have left.

…I don't recall ever feeling so alone than right then at that moment. Sure, I've lived alone in the city for a few years to do work as a photo-journalist in that tiny sad excuse of an apartment, but I felt satisfied to be on my own and depressed to always be put down and yet, I never felt the least bit lonely.

I had my boss to deal with in the past, but I had co-workers who cared. I've been running away from the Sentenza and lived in fear of the Vongola once I've encountered their Nono, but that damn bastard never made my life _too_ unbearable. He wouldn't be here all the time, but he was someone I could count on.

Now, I had no one but myself.

"I've been…really busy." Being vague, that was all I could really say.

He snorts at my response and I freeze up. Oh please…

"I've been really busy, hah, mah ass!" I could imagine him shaking his head as he begins his little rant, "So fuckin' make time! Geez, it'sah yah boss, ain't it? Tha' asshole, if ah, if I was there, I'd giva't tah him, eh mia bambina! If your nonna still here, hell, you'dah giva hah a fuckin' panic attack ev'ry fuckin' day with yah nat contactin' hah."

I give a silent sigh of relief. I am beyond glad that he couldn't see my blotchy red face or my trembling left hand, gripping onto the arm connected to my right hand that holds onto the receiver.

My voice quivers, "Y-yeah, I know. I'm sorry nonno."

I could mentally picture him shrugging off my apology, "Bah, wha'ver! You know, mia bambina, it'sah lika I tol' yah, no need tah say sorry."

He pauses before speaking again, "So, how iz yah? Eatin' well? Yah sleep?"

Unconsciously, I nod my head in affirmation while answering, "Uh-huh. I-I do."

A tear slips from the corner of my eye and I quickly brush it away, thinking that nonno could sense the grief radiating from me through the phone. I bear a grin, "I-I'm fine. Still working and…things are, going pretty well, actually."

Smile and bear the pain. Smile and bear the pain. Just focus on smiling. Focus. Be happy. Be happy. Just focus on being happy. I am happy. I am happy. There's nothing wrong. There's nothing wrong.

On the other line I could hear the short audible intake of his breath and I know. The moment that he exhales loudly is the undeniable indication of the fact that he knows. He knows that I'm lying. But he'd never say it straight out, even when he's so blunt about everything. He would never intentionally hurt anyone with his straightforward way of hitting things on the head. Actually, forget that last thought; he would throw direct insults at people he hated, but to those he did love, he would always show a tender side… like a sleepy grizzly bear. I know that it's a weird picture to imagine.

"Well," I could mentally see him staring at me with his knowing eyes, but he turns away, "I ain't gunna push yah. But, I'm glad tha' yah okay. If anythin', yah know yah can come home, eh?"

Home, huh.

"Mm-hm, so…what's new with you, nonno?"

The words he spins as he recollects the past few weeks on the farm allow my thoughts to drift back to the days where I was still there with him. There was only the two of us, me and nonno, on the farm; nonna having left us for the place in the heavens or as nonno, in his unromantic way, puts it "sleepin' in tha' soil" about six years ago. It was so quiet when she was gone because she used to sing a lot around the house, either humming or trying to sing a song that she had heard in French. I really miss her voice and it's odd how even though I could remember her down from her silver wavy hair that she'd always wrap in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, the delicious apple pies that she'd always win second place in the baking contests at the little so-called country fair in the small town a ways off acted like her perfume, her small wrinkly hands that would squeeze my cheeks whenever I gave her lip. Even with this sensory information stored in the deepest part of my mind, I have forgotten what her voice sounds like.

"…Hello?"

"Huh? Oh sorry nonno, you were saying?"

He scoffs, "Sheesh, yah sure yah sleepin' righ' mia bambina?"

No. It feels like forever since I got a decent sleep, nonno. Losing my job, being threatened by the Mafia, running away from dangerous criminal mobsters that are at my throat because of something you had done in the past to make them so fucking pissed off. If you wanted my honest opinion, I would say, life could be peachier.

I bite my tongue to stave off the sarcasm and force myself into sounding convincing.

"I am."

Nonno snorts, "I ain't so sure. Whatta yah hidin' from me?"

There was no way I could ask him about the Sentenza. I had to find something else to say. I could literally taste the irritation emanating from his end of the line that was slowly seeping its way into my own. I had to say something, he was waiting. What was I going to say? What the fucking hell could I say? Oh yeah nonno, I heard you were an ex-member of the Sentenza, so what did you do to make them so fucking annoying?

Hah! I was so fucking screwed.

I take a breath, "I…might be coming home to visit."

Fuckin' hell, Amaranta, really? The best you could come up with, was this? Really, honestly; this is your best excuse? I should slap onto my forehead a label for being stupid so that everyone could see how much of a dumbass I am.

I think this was the fifth or sixth time that nonno has snorted in disbelief during this entire conversation, "Pullin' yur nonno's leg, eh mia bambina? Whatta sense ah humour."

"No, no, I will, honest," Yeah, fucking right, how the hell will I get past that damn _bastard_, "The boss has to give me a day off, I mean, I-I haven't taken any holidays, so…"

It was true though; the fucker never let me off the hook so I accumulated at least a month off work.

"Ah FUCK. Who the 'ell?" Nonno must be gritting his teeth because he hates being interrupted when he's doing something.

In any case, I took the opportunity, "I-I'll call you later about it, okay?"

"Sure mia bambina… DAMN IT! I haftah check tha' door! Call me soon about tha' trip, eh?"

I mentally sigh in relief. I managed to escape the bullet by a hair, "I will."

"Alright, FUCKIN' ELL, hold on a sec, yah fuckin' jackass!" The line cuts off abruptly and the dull dial tone rings in my ear.

I slowly drop the phone back and float over to the large chair in the living room area. Slumping down onto it, I think back on the conversation. I hadn't really fucked up. I mean, I have to talk to nonno to get to the bottom of this ordeal and to figure how to get us out of it. The only way to do that is to go back home and talk to him face to face, no matter what happens…

I groan. I didn't want to do it, but there was no one else to do it for me. If worse comes to worse, I would have to face the situation solo. It was too difficult to run when your adversary was stronger than you are and the odds are obviously set against you.

Fuck. I'd sure like to ask someone, why me? Why did I get stuck into a fucking crazy situation like this one? I didn't ask for it.

The chair was oddly comforting and I couldn't help but feel that a hazy cloud is settling over my eyes, making me sleepy. I let my heavy lids close. A nap is good. I could go for a nap, hell, I deserve…

The sound of the murmurs in the crowd echoed like ripples in water through the air waves. Three police officers and a few fire fighters were assessing the situation. A white Tomaso Pantera with a dented fender stopped right in front of the broken fire plug that was spewing up water like no tomorrow, it had nothing on the Trevi fountain of course, but the kids seemed to enjoy it, their mothers on the other hand, not so much. But for reporters, like yours truly, it was a field day. News had been particularly dry lately and although this event seems miniscule, it was something "big" that happened in town.

Blazing hot weather and no signs of any speck of white tainting the azure skyline; it was a beautiful day in summer. I had to fan myself with my notepad and kept on wiping off the sweat sliding down the underside of my chin and onto my bulgy black camera hung around my neck. I was surprised that the old woman wasn't melting in her long dark purple high collared dress that ended right down to her ankles.

"Lik'ah I say, tha' car came ah speedin' down an' ah BOOM," She loudly claps her hands together to emphasize the shocking sound that she had heard from outside her window from a block away, "I ah heard tha' little bambinos rushin' an' ah screamin."

I nod and turn to stare out at the scene of destruction, watching as more police officers came to establish a barrier around the tiny area. Two of the officers were interviewing the driver of the car while the fire fighters busied themselves with closing the water supply.

Tapping the tip of my pen to my notepad, I take a note of the street that we're on and the store that was located right in front of the accident. It would be useful to describe the details of the scene in the text that would support the photographs I had already taken. I was lucky enough to get a few good pictures before the fire fighters shooed me away as if I was some tiny pesky fly flying around the food on a picnic table. But knowing that damn boss of mine, I would need more than shots of the flooding. Take more panoramic shots, Russo; I didn't hire you to take "boring" pictures!

"An' ah signorina, signorina," The old woman grabbed a hold on my arm and shook it to regain my attention, "My name is ah Maria Santorelli. Make ah sure to put it in, yeah?"

I replied with a soft mumble, "Of course. Excuse me."

I leave behind the old woman to take a few steps back and nearly tripped over backwards on my ass to get a decent shot of the entire scene with the authorities and citizens. It sucked to have to fit everyone and every single little thing in through the lens of my camera. After four or five clicks, I noticed that someone was staring directly at me from the crowd of faces.

Dressed in midnight black in a suit save for the single splash of red wrapped around his neck, I recognized the mysterious figure who stood out to me in the crowd of nameless people. His glassy white eyes stare blankly at me and I'm rooted to the spot. My surroundings are melding into blots of inky colours that grow darker with each passing second.

What the hell was going on?

With every step, he came closer and closer toward me, but I couldn't move.

I had to move. I wanted to move, but my body wasn't listening to me. Fuck, Amaranta, move. Get out of there! GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE. My mind screamed out at me and I ignored its cries. He was closing distance, bridging the gap between us with a calm stride. His hands rest casually in his pockets, his shoulders square and posture straight like an arrow launched cleanly from its bow.

Why wouldn't I move? Why couldn't I move? What was wrong with me?

His gaze locked with my own. It was a piercing unfaltering assessment of my being that interested him in some way that I couldn't fathom. He was going to stop right in front of me in five, four, three, two and one.

* * *

I blink once then twice.

A black blazer is draped over my shoulders and I hesitantly reach up a hand to wipe my eyes. The piece of clothing slides off my torso and lays crumpled on my lap like a used tissue. I pick up the blazer and the smell of cigarette smoke sticks to the fibers of the material but having not embedded itself into the coat, there is a faint scent of coffee and cologne. I clench the soft yet sturdy material in my hands, it shows signs of age yet it's well-kept.

I attempt to fold the blazer as if it was a regular shirt, but that proved to be difficult. I didn't like how the opening of the shirt stretched out when the sleeves were folded back. Normally, I would either hang my clothes inside of a closet or drape random pieces over furniture, which was either my bed or couch. You see, I'm too lazy to fold laundry and give a fuck if my clothes are too wrinkled. If the clothes are decent looking, then I'll look decent too. There isn't anything else I really had to say about my physical appearance and taste in clothing.

Looking over to the doors connected to the general area, I spot one door in particular that is closed off. The doors to the spare bedroom and washroom are slightly left ajar to show that someone is allowed to enter inside them. For that little bit of detective work, I guessed that it was his room.

I decide to fold the blazer in half horizontally and to leave it on the chair's arm. Getting up and walking into the tiny kitchen area of his apartment, my eyes catch the face of a clock hanging by the refrigerator on top of a blank calendar. It read six-forty. I didn't know if that either meant that I was up in the early morning or late afternoon. The window by the sink is a good indicator to give me a hint as to what time of the day it was since I could see the sun peeking outwards from the tops of the buildings opposite to this apartment complex.

Scrounging around in his kitchen was a pretty fun thing to do; I say this in the most sarcastic way ever, because I had a fucking hard time trying to find anything in his goddamn cupboards and drawers. They weren't full to the brim with random crap that you might find if you went searching through the contents of cupboards and drawers belonging to a friend's house, oh no, his kitchen was practically bare! However, I did find a box of grounded coffee, a metal moka pot, a dark blue mug and a tiny tablespoon. Guess I'll be having an espresso for breakfast unless I manage to find something else in his refrigerator.

It's been a while since I woke up this early and I just didn't feel tired enough to go back to sleep. I didn't want to face that creepy guy again. I wonder who he was and if I knew him from somewhere else. Trying to think too hard in the morning is hurting my brain, so I just let it go.

I hadn't used a moka pot in the longest while, so I had trouble trying to dissemble the pot into its three parts. Before I even make my drink, I check to see if the moka pot was cleaned and to my utter amazement, it wasn't. I try with the best of my ability to scrub off the tiny gunk in the corners of the filter and rinsing the metal parts in the hopes of sanitizing the pot.

Now that I really thought about it, how would I get enough time to escape the prying eyes of the Vongola, the Sentenza and that Reborn to meet with nonno without looking so conspicuous? I realize that I couldn't sneak around, seeing as how the Mafia and other affiliated groups literally have eyes everywhere. That also meant that I couldn't very well lie to their faces either, I mean, I doubt that bastard would like the fact that I would even attempt to pull a fast one on him. Heck, I doubted that I could fool him into thinking anything. I have to give it to him, the jackass is too smart and isn't too overly confidant to miss any "minor" details.

Closing the top of the pot by connecting all three pieces together, I place the moka pot on the stove on high heat to wait for it to boil. Now, I wonder if he has any sugar or milk in his sad excuse of a kitchen. Bending down on my knees, I push open the cupboards to look for a bag of sweet white powdery stuff, but I couldn't find any and made a mental note of getting some later. I mentally kick myself in the shin at the thought since I realize how ridiculous the idea was. Sure, I could buy him sugar when I'm not even his roommate; I snort, why would I need to buy sugar for him? What the hell was I thinking? I bet it was the sleep talking because I'm obviously not in my right sense of mind.

A yawn pushes its way up my throat and past my lips. Feeling the stretch in my jaw, it sends a shiver of electricity down my entire body. I also feel that particular emptiness in my stomach which alludes to the fact that I was fucking starving.

…Damn it, would it hurt to have something to eat in here? After rummaging for the failed attempt of getting sugar, I turn to the refrigerator and open up the door to see nothing except for a glass bottle of milk. I turn over the milk to check its due date that is usually indicated somewhere on the bottle. Huh, someone does love me today because it isn't expired.

The silence in the room is destroyed once the short spurts of shrill cries are made by the moka pot sitting on the hot stove top. At first, the steam rolls off in light puffs from the spout but the pot began to release a fair amount of cloudy vapour into the air. I wait for a few seconds before lowering the heat once the high pitched sound becomes muted in order to lift off the top of the pot to see if the coffee was done. I pour a few droplets of milk into the coffee and stir the two liquids together with a teaspoon.

The cup radiated heat into my hands to the point where I thought that the burning sensation was going to scald my hands. I place the cup on the table right out front of the kitchen area, pulling up a chair and sit. I glance down at the lightened brown beverage and sigh a little.

I could tell a half truth and exclude some of the major details, but like I said about Reborn, I bet he would spot the little nuances and out rightly call me out for hiding away crucial information. That would mean that I would have to tell a white lie, state enough of the truth so that I wouldn't fuck myself over… But then what would I say instead of?

A hand leans in and grabs my coffee mug. With wide eyes, I stare up at him. Without his black blazer, I found that it was easier to see the lean firm build through his white collared shirt. He wasn't wearing his signature black fedora and golden yellow tie either. It was weird, but not too strange to be able to see his dark eyes. Did he always have curly side burns? I really hadn't noticed them until now… They're pretty…

"I'm flattered of your gawking but close your mouth or flies might be tempted to fly in." Shit! Was I really staring at him so intently? I look down at the tabletop, refusing to look over at him once he settles in the chair across from me with the mug in his right hand.

Asshole! I made that coffee for myself; get your own damn cup!

His mouth tweaks into a soft smile which melds away after he takes a particularly long sip of my coffee and licks his lips to collect a droplet of the brown liquid gold onto his tongue, "Be proud, it's a _decent_ cup of coffee."

Taunting me, you fucking piece of…! Decent cup of coffee, my ass! I groan and prop my chin on the tabletop. I wasn't in the mood to fight in the morning. It was much too early for his crap and I wasn't going to take it.

"What a pleasant morning," He sips the caffeinated liquid in silence. You've won this one, you damn… Oh forget it.

Downing the last of the drink with a swift elegant tilt of his chin, he places the mug onto the table. I, on the other hand, was currently staring off into space, grumbling about how fucking hungry and thirsty I was. Damn it!

A white card is thrown towards my head and lands right on the tip of my nose; I brush it off and pick it up with my right hand. It looked like an invitation with a gold insignia on it that was almost too familiar to me.

"Nono wishes to speak with you at the party tonight," Reborn uses a hand to slick back his dark spiky locks of hair with his fingers.

What was this about a party? My eye brows furrow slightly and I frown. A party meant a huge group of people gathered together to socialize between one another. This is a party hosted by the Vongola, so it must be a gathering of mafiosos and their associates. Great, I'll be hanging around mobsters for the night, perfect. My eyes scan the contents of the card and glance over the words: formally invite, ball, celebrating ninth's fortieth year as boss of the Vongola. Wait... How could he be the boss for forty years if he's in his thirties...? Oh shit! He's fifty-something? Crap, he looks good for a fifty-something!

His eyes scan me from head to toe and I can't help but blush at his scrutiny. The fuck was he staring at? The stupid hypocrite tells me to quit staring at him. He should take his own damn advice and shove…

The hitman smirks, "Of course that also means that you'll have to wear a dress."

To put the icing on the cake, I'll have to wear something formal too. Shit, where the hell did he expect me to find the funds to buy a fucking dress! I'm not made out of money! And why the fuck is he insinuating that I'm a bum! Okay, I admit that I'm thrifty to an extent, but that doesn't mean that he has to be a fucktard and tell me that I look like a bum. Plus, the cherry on top of this confection is talking to the Vongola's nono and trying to convince him rather than Reborn about the trip to home. This is really turning out to be a huge pain the ass.

"A-and where will I find the money to buy it? I left all of my stuff…" I automatically stop myself midsentence.

_"Antonio?" I murmur. He doesn't hear me. I clear my voice and that is the point where he turns and stares at me with overjoyed tears in his eyes. He raises his arms out to me and I can't help but sob. I rush over to him, crashing down to my knees and embrace his small thin frame._

The fact that I had stuttered in front of him again didn't faze me because I was so wrapped up in the thought of a fresh memory that I didn't want to remember. But here I am, I'm forced to remember something that I don't want to.

_"Get away from my father!"_

I didn't want to think about it, but that's how life is really. The issue you want so desperately to escape from will keep pursuing you and try as you might to push it back to the deepest recesses of your mind, it'll claw its way up your chest, digging its nails into your throat before it tears your eyeballs out of its bloody sockets. There's no denying that it's a gruesome picture that rings fear through your heart like a bullet piercing straight through your temple.

_"I don't want to hear it. Just get out! GET OUT! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE."_

I don't even notice the white box that had slid its way into my line of view. I look up over at the table to see the dark haired hitman. With his longs legs crossed one over the other and his arms crossed his chest, he looks calm, but I could tell that he was slightly annoyed with my question. The arched eyebrow and lilt of his head could be taken as a look of absolute "you're-a-fucking-idiot".

I flip the cover of the box open and gape at its contents. With shaking fingers, I lift up the black evening dress from the box. It had thin shoulder straps that had to be tied together into a bow and the silky smooth material was cold to the touch. I gently, lay the dress on my lap and stare at it. I just stared at it. I didn't have anything even remotely... magnificent. I was guessing the dress was knee length which was perfectly fine with me, seeing as how I was not tall enough to wear those really long extravagant gowns.

Holding this treasure in my arms, I literally felt like a princess. Looking into the box for the other items, I found a pair of matching black high heeled shoes and a silver chain necklace with a charm on the end that was in the shape of a rose.

Reborn speaks and his tone does not betray the shame that was evident on his face, "Remember to add this to your tab."

I blink and stare at him. Did he honestly...? Wow. Just wow. What a way to ruin the moment.

"So...when is it?" I ask.

* * *

Some part of me was regretting the fact that I could have refused the invitation to the Vongola party, but that would have been really rude on my part and I would have probably been killed for it. I groan softly and think how much easier it would have been to have an informal meeting at a café amid normal people.

I gather my slightly damp hair with my right hand and gather a hair brush in my left to straighten out the tangles from my hair. Gosh, I didn't even know what I was going to do with my hair. I didn't bother to put on too much make-up. I usually settle with a bit of eyeliner and lip gloss. With the scenario for tonight, I didn't want to stand out in a crowded room of Mafioso. I just wanted to look...proper?

I could put it in a high ponytail, but then that would make me look even younger than I really was. I could tie it in a side ponytail, but make it lower behind the ear, maybe? Nah, the ribbon would just undue itself. I let my hair down and stare at myself in the mirror. Letting my hair down is too informal... Plus, if I start to get nervous, I'll start playing with the ends of my hair and then it'll end up all ugly and curly. Let's say that I didn't want that to happen. This is so frustrating! I wanted to bang my head against this tiny dresser in the guestroom of Reborn's apartment, but then I would have to suffer with people looking at my red forehead and wondering why it was like that.

I imagine myself, explaining it to people with a haughty accent, "It is in-fashion in _that place_. They say that it removes the tension from your forehead to remove wrinkly age lines from forming, did you know?"

Yeah right, no one would fucking believe that!

I decide to just pin it in a low loose bun at the nape of my neck. I just hope it doesn't unwind before the night was over. Oh god, help me. I'm not ready for this.

I step outside the guestroom with the bottom of my heels clacking away as they walk across the wooden floor.

"Hm, you clean up decently Cinderella," I gaze down at my shoes and don't bother to look up at him.

I can't help my cheeks from flushing pink, "Shut it."

He chuckles and walks straight out of the apartment, not even bothering to wait for me. I groan and follow behind him after a five second head start.

* * *

**Yellow-Sama Says...** Hi. I realize that it's been more than two months since I last updated this fanfiction project and for that, I apologize. I'm finally done with school for the summer and besides writing fanfiction, I have landed myself in a pickle by searching for a summer job to buy for my textbooks and such for next fall since I'm headed for university. It's very exciting. I also am part of a group on Youtube where we do song covers and perhaps, dance covers. So, check out my profile for details.

I've also decided to answer people's comments from the previous chapter in my end note, seeing as how I think that it was about time that I start to communicate more with my fellow fanfiction authors and readers from the Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn fandom on . So, if you happen to ask a question in your review, there is a great chance that I will answer them in the end note or on my TUMBLR blog, which you can find on my profile page as well.

To _Sherbika_: Thank you for your kind words, they make me smile whenever I read them. I'm also happy that my Reborn is an interesting portrayal of the character because I'm always afraid that he may be OOC. I think that in this chapter, he was definitely a bit sweeter than usual with his teasing ways. There might be a reason for that of which we may see in the next chapter. I think that the last chapter was the not the last time that we would see Villi. He will come back. I can say without a doubt that there will be more LucexAma interactions by the next chapter and bit of RebornxLuce. TEEHEE.

To _TheKawaiiStar21_: Hello. Thanks so much for being such a faithful reader! I know what you mean about Gio and I really think that I surprised myself with his reaction too. But I was trying my best to give a somewhat realistic reaction towards the unexpected event by a normal person who is in no way directly related to the Mafia. I hope that you've liked how this chapter developed because I plan to make the next chapter more humorous to balance the darkness that Ama has been dealing with so far.


	13. Chapter 12

No matter how close I am to you, the distance between us may be trivial but my mind plays these horrible tricks on my eyes which lead me to believe that it would be impossible for us to touch.

* * *

Disclaimer: Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc.) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

Song Inspiration: Lullaby of Birdland – Sakamichi no Apollon OST

* * *

The glamour and glitz of the high life is a world that I first believed to have belonged to only those of the upper crust.

And you know what, I was right.

Gazing up above my head, I notice the high ceilings are made from white marble, covered with grooves and delicate symmetrical and asymmetrical shapes of various sizes. Arches connect either side of the ceiling to one another like bridges reuniting two lost lovers. Attached to the ceiling with metal chains, several chandeliers glitter gold and their lights cast down onto the shiny varnished ballroom floor like falling stars. Large glass windows, about ten on either end of the room with black frames, are half covered with white crème drapery. There are several doors including the huge one where we had entered from and a long ways away was a large set of stairs, quite similar to the ones that you would see in a movie about a princess and her prince charming. Ten feet paintings line the walls, along with leafy plantation and white roses placed in gorgeous ochre pots in the room, strategically placed along the walls, but not so overshadowed to be overlooked.

If it wasn't for the fact that I was surrounded by crowds of mobsters dressed sharply in their formal black suits, I would actually think that I was one of those rich snooty girls who would giggle shrilly while sipping a cool glass of bubbly champagne, gossiping about everything and nothing. But then again, I paled horribly in comparison to the women in the room who were dressed to impress, hanging onto the arms of their mobster men like a designer labeled purse on a woman's person. Defined cheekbones, long dark lashes, full rosy lips, flashy colours, wrapped in beautiful silks cut and sewn into elegant dresses which fit like a glove around the perfect seductive curves of the majority of the women on the floor.

Well, damn.

Striding quickly through the crowd of testosterone without looking back at Reborn, I thought the air was too thick with strange scents; there are waves of strong musky cologne, the faint whiff of the white roses in their golden yellow vases and exotic perfumes wafting and mixing altogether in that large space that strangles what little breath I have in my chest.

"Careful, your country bumpkin persona is showing."

I send a glare over in his direction. Reborn hums lightly to himself as if he hadn't said a word when he looks absentmindedly over his own left shoulder to gaze at the men in the crowd. In response, I pretty much give him the cold shoulder by glancing away from his stupid face. I obviously did not give a shit if he was still being a jackass. He was just trying to get a reaction out of me and I wasn't about to fall for his damn trick.

He speaks again, but still refuses to look in my direction, "Remember to smile, you do owe Nono after all." Twist the knife deeper into the wound and slap on some sea salt onto it, why don't you? Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if he just shut his mouth for the remainder of the evening. His smug smirk somehow molds itself into a polite smile as he draws the attention of a brunette in an emerald mermaid dress by staring into her lusty gaze. Disgusting pi...

I groan and am abruptly nudged roughly to the side by a large shadow hanging over me like a dark storm cloud that disturbs the serenity of an azure skyline. Like what in the?! I stare at the large mass of person that had "accidently" shoved me aside as if I didn't exist.

It was the first time that I had laid eyes on a foreigner from the Far East. Abnormally tall and dressed in a maroon robe, white silk pants and brocade slippers. It feels strange to describe his hairstyle since it looked as if he had a receding hairline, but what I should say, is that he has a wide forehead? Maybe I should just stop trying to give a mental picture of his physical appearance since I sound like I'm insulting the guy.

Reborn wraps an arm around my waist and I'm pulled back into his chest. His skilled tongue wraps around his teeth and lips to clearly annunciate the complex language of the Orient. The towering giant unexpectedly bows to us, keeping his head low as his booming voice answers in reply to whatever the hell Reborn said. I notice that his long black braid trails down his backside like a feline's sleek tail. The man slowly raises his head and Reborn nods at him. Before long, he has already walked away.

Releasing me from his grasp, Reborn peers down to see my look of surprise and I couldn't help but be astonished, "What did you say to him?"

"I told him that you're sorry for being uncoordinated." The blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and I feel the familiar burn of embarrassment come over me.

I grumble, "Oh fuck y-"

"Reborn," The dark haired hitman places his immediate attention on the fair haired gentleman standing behind us. Matching Reborn's stern countenance, the man's eyes suddenly hone in on my appearance and made me so damn uncomfortable. He had long side bangs hanging down his face and the length of his hair reaches past his shoulder that is slowly gradating into the colour of moonlight. He was slightly taller than Reborn and had retained a slim muscular physique despite his age. I saw tiny wrinkles at the corners of his hardened eyes. He had a thin nose, facial whiskers growing above his upper lip and a small frown.

I didn't notice if Reborn had acknowledged the man's question or not, but he deviated slightly from the beginning of that conversation, "Ms. Russo, this is Coyote Nougat, Nono's right hand man."

The words register into my mind and upon the introduction, I hesitantly stuck out my hand for him to shake, "H-how do you do?"

Coyote only returns his attention on the man beside me, leaving me in the cold with my hand out and at that moment, I couldn't help but feel stupid. I shouldn't feel too offended to be ignored like this, I mean, I find that was always the case. Well, fuck him then. I let my hand drop at my side. I make sure to not look even slightly annoyed since he was the right hand man to the leader of a great Mafia organization.

To break the silence, Reborn draws himself away from my side. His voice is quiet, but loud enough for my ears to catch his words, "Excuse us."

The pair slip into the crowd to god knows where and it took me a second later to realize that I had been ditched. Sighing deeply, I walk over to stand beside one of the refreshment tables in the large room. Crossing my arms upon my chest, I gaze out into the crowd to people watch. It isn't my favorite past time, mind you, but it was a fun game when you're a slightly awkward character like me who becomes anxious in formal social events designed for the entertainment of the rich elite.

Coyote and Reborn were nowhere to be found in the sea of people. My eyes scan the floor from right to left, and then back by the opposite direction. The emerald mermaid woman is flirting with a plump potbellied old man with the noticeably enormous diamond encrusted rings on his fat sausage fingers. Male waiters swerved amongst the crowd of individuals without bumping into any obstructing objects in their path while their right hands, carrying a long round platter of champagne glasses or little fancy snacks, are held up in the air. The minority of the staff look as if they were overwhelmed by the mass of people, but the majority had a matching blank facial expression as they moved along to the wave of Mafioso. I didn't spot any sign of the Nono anywhere on the floor and wondered if he was just going to make a huge flashy entrance or something when he did appear. I suppose it would be too flamboyant for the Nono to do something like that for his own party and for sure, he really didn't seem like the type.

Yeah, I don't know what I'm saying anymore. I think the atmosphere of the party is getting to me.

I blink and the pair had already broken up, Coyote mingling with the rest of the Mafioso in the crowd. He still looks grumpy from this angle and I came to the conclusion that he just isn't a party person, or a people person or, just a sad misunderstood…

A flash of white in the sea of people captures my attention and I can only describe it as a gut feeling because I know that it's _her_. Beautiful in her white formal garments, her movements flow along the crowd like a butterfly dancing across an open meadow or the tails of a kite sailing in the blue. Her large white hat sat upon her dark blue tresses like a fluffy cloud floating freely in the sky, a long orange scarf hangs loosely around her shoulders and the familiar baby bump protruding from beneath her dress looks a bit larger than it used to. Using such clichéd terms to describe Luce are the only words that I could muster on the spot when my eyes immediately zone in on her.

I hadn't realized that Reborn is standing right beside her as if he had always been there. His left hand slides down the middle of her back and rests comfortably at her waist. He whispers low in her ear, but his warm breath tickles her lobe which makes her giggle and speak softly in return, staring into his dark eyes. Their hips are attached to one another's side like a pair of turtle doves in their own secret world. He leads her across the floor, careful not to push her too hard for the safety of her unborn child, I bet, he was escorting her around the place like a true gentleman.

I grumble under my breath; they sure feel comfy being so close together like that. But wait, was Reborn really her husband? I mean, he isn't wearing a ring… Oh gosh, I couldn't imagine Luce cheating on her husband with Reborn, though I can understand…Ugh, no, Amaranta! Luce isn't the type! But what the hell would I know? But, I don't remember if Luce was wearing a wedding ring either...

A silver platter fills my line of sight for a brief second with thin champagne glasses filled with of various coloured alcohol. My fingers wrap around the neck of a glass and I tilt my neck backward slightly to down the icy cold yellow champagne passing through my lips. The white rimmed froth coats my upper lip and the bubbles burn the end of my tongue and the back of my throat. I squint my eyes and quickly lick the top of my lips.

Oh my god, he couldn't have?! That bastard! Who the fuck does he think he is?!

The platter does not move quickly away and I put down the empty glass in my hands onto it to replace it with another. My eyes do not stray away from the couple and I watch Luce and Reborn float over to one of the large pillars in the room. Luce walks over to a velvet cushioned chair with Reborn's assistance. He holds onto her smaller hands in his grasp as she slowly sits comfortably on the chair, graceful and refined like a tiny snowflake dancing toward the ground. With a straightened back and everything, she embodies perfection in her every movement, facial expression and word she spoke.

How could he pull this kind of shit? And to someone like Luce! The nerve! Having his way with her and not bearing the responsibility, what kind of man does that?

The taste isn't bitter and instead of taking dainty sips, I gulp the champagne down hard. I get used to the fizziness of the drink. It tastes good. I can't even discern if the alcohol is what made my cheeks so hot. Before I even knew it, I found myself with another half-empty glass. I ignored the looks of disgust and derision I was getting from the women around me, their powdered noses and pointed chins stuck up in the air, okay, maybe I exaggerated that last detail, but you get the picture.

But, wait, why should I care whether or not Reborn and Luce are in a promiscuous relationship? What does it have to do with me? It isn't my problem! Why should I care? I barely even know the two of them, so why get into their business?

A shudder suddenly runs down my spine and I unconsciously squeeze my thighs together. The pressure builds in between my legs, a strange tingling sensation trails down from inside of my body heading downward and I hiss out a low "shit". I drank too much and I need to fucking pee! My heels clack noisily across the varnished floor as I scramble out of the large hall. The glares intensify as I push my way through the whispers of "unladylike" comments and complaints. But, who gives a shit; I needed to find the ladies' room! Every few steps, I would stop to make sure that my bladder wouldn't explode on the way to the restroom. With my lower body twitching, I grit my teeth as I finally exit the sweltering environment.

* * *

I sigh in relief, opening the tap to rinse the soap suds covering every inch of my fingers. I'm glad that I didn't run into any accident on the way to the restroom. I had to speak to four numbskull waiters who couldn't understand what I was saying or just didn't give a damn in giving me the information that I needed. The warm water hits my skin and I gently rub at my palms, watching the white bubbles slide off my hands, mixing with the water, sliding and swirling around in the porcelain sink before disappearing down the drain. Grabbing the fluffy hand towel hanging on the wall beside the door, I wipe my hands dry. Exiting the restroom, I nearly crash into the person waiting outside.

"Oh, uh…" I begin, but I stop myself and awkwardly look down at the black high heeled shoes strapped onto my feet. I take a breath and raise my head, offering her a half-smile, "H-hello."

Luce smiles warmly in return and was obviously far more comfortable than I in making short conversation, "No need to be so formal with me Amaranta. Oh, you look darling in that dress!"

My eyes flicker away to stare at a painting on the wall. I couldn't discern what it was, but I kept staring at it to make me calm down a little. I felt a bit embarrassed by what Luce called me. Darling…? No one had ever complimented me by calling me "darling". My left hand crosses over my body to hold onto my right hand.

"Thanks." My answer sounds curt in my ears and I feel my mouth is growing drier by the second. I didn't understand why my body was reacting the way it was since I drank so much before coming here, "You look amazing tonight."

So, I was right. I do sound awkward compared to her. And here I am the so called journalist who is supposed to be a silver tongued intellectual, but is, in fact, sounding like some mousy pubescent boy who is embarrassing himself when flirting with a really pretty girl. I honestly feel sorry for myself right now.

She chuckles and says, "Well, I really just wear this outfit all the time. It's easy to move around in. But, I do love your dress. Where did you get it?"

Yup, she's playing a classic redirection to get the awkward tension out of this conversation. God, she's such a natural talker unlike yours truly. And, funnily enough, I find that my nerves are calming down.

"I got it from Re… Uh, well, it was a gift." Why I couldn't just tell her that the dress and shoes were given to me by Reborn escaped my sense of rationality. But, I felt like I shouldn't say anything to make Reborn any nicer than he actually is. Hell, he was only responsible for giving me the outfit. It wasn't like he bought it with me in mind.

…Crap, that's a scary thought.

There was a short pause before she spoke again, "I'm sorry, but do you mind if…?"

She nods over in the direction of the restroom door, "Oh, I'll just move!" I quickly take a step to the side, letting Luce pass through the door.

Before I could walk off, Luce's voice tells me, "Do you mind if you could wait outside for me?"

At the sight of my confused expression, she justifies her request, "I'd like to talk to you some more. It's more fun speaking to a cute young lady than talking to old men all night."

"Uh, sure," I comply so easily. The door shuts closed and I'm standing alone in the hallway. I hear waves of applause from the direction of the large hall. I bet the Vongola's Nono was introducing the event and beginning his speech. I feel like I should be over there rather than here because it feels rude to not be present for the host's salutations, especially, when he somewhat personally invited you to this huge celebration through a close associate. This associate would have probably pointed a gun to your temple, demanding that you got your ass out of your chair and to get ready to attend said event. And so, the idea of being threatened at point blank makes the invite oh so tempting.

Personally, opening speeches of social events were always dry to me and it was the reason why I never covered soft news. I found it more interesting to take photographs of the after math of terrible events or noisy protests and the like. Besides, the fact that they made for a more exciting story with a heavier impact, they were easier to create a human face from a disaster rather than a formal party of socialites with painted facades. For that reason, I didn't attempt to zero in on the words of the host when I leaned against the wall beside the ladies' room.

"Sorry, did you wait for long?" I shake my head and meet her clear blue eyes. I found it hard to turn away, so I'm glad that she closes her eyes when she smiled.

Our abrupt small talk began anew when Luce asked me about what I thought of the Vongola party. I stated all the pleasant niceties that I could think of off the top of my head: the venue is gorgeous, the liquor is pretty good, I liked how it was cold because I dislike my liquor at room temperature and everyone in the room was having a fun time from what I saw. I skipped out all the grittier details of my confrontations against the mysterious Asian man and the Nono's second in command, that sulky guy, the suffocating atmosphere and how it felt like all the scents were clogging up my windpipe.

"Really," Her eyes widen slightly, "I found the party so…boring. Not to offend the Vongola's Nono who might have taken time to arrange the event, but I think that having music like soft jazz would have made the atmosphere less intense. I thought it strange how there weren't any appearances of the new members of the allied families that were here today. I bet they would be less dry in conversation compared to the old men. It's awkward to have a conversation with them because I don't find particular interest in baseless gossip. If I wanted to satiate my urges for gossip, I would rather pick up a magazine and stare at its columns all day. And please, do not get me started with the women in the room. I just…I'm glad that Reborn was around or else I think I would have been driven to the point of insanity."

In response to her huge rant, I couldn't help but snort loudly. I could feel my ears reddening and Luce's smile curves into a larger mischievous one.

"I am not kidding you, Amaranta." Luce and I slowly make our way to the large hall when a second wave of applause resounds in the hallway, blocking out the sound of my laughter at Luce trying to imitate the sensual gazes of one of many of the females at the party. My favorite impersonation was of a woman who liked to flip her hair over her shoulder every once in a while when she spoke. Apparently, the woman happened to slap a young man in the face with her hair as he passed by unsuspectingly while speaking to his friend. He wasn't very pleased to taste her hair in his mouth.

"Oh yuck, but it was bound to happen," I semi-shrug but snort at the picture in my head, "So, what happened after that?"

I glance around in the great hall and spot the Vongola Nono standing with that sulky guy and other smartly dressed males that made up his posse. Luce recalls the woman's horror in the situation, saying something about her nose flaring when she was stuttering to apologize to the young man.

But, I'm not sure of the details because someone caught my eye. He seemed really familiar, but I couldn't place my finger on his identity until he turned around and that was when I saw his face. Our eyes didn't meet, but my line of sight was locked onto him; he was moving fluidly on the floor, dodging people left and right while carrying a tray of champagne glasses and offering them to guests.

The slim frame in a waiter uniform, those chestnut brown eyes, but his dark brown bangs are slicked neatly to the side. I knew that it was him; the young man who helped me from the Sentenza's home base, wherever that was. If it weren't for him, I'd still be stuck there for god knows how long.

Basilio. That's what his name was.

But what was he doing here?

I unexpectedly cut off Luce, "Hey, do you feel thirsty? Because I kinda do, yeah, I'm kinda thirsty. So, I'll get us some drinks, so wait here for me. Okay? Okay."

I race off onto the floor, rudely leaving Luce to stand alone by one of the white pillars in order to reach Basilio. I nearly trip on the last step, but manage to catch myself before I could deal myself any damage or break a heel.

Standing right behind Basilio, I tap him on the shoulder. He turns his neck to peer over his shoulder at me. His eyes are blank when he looks at me, it doesn't seem like he knows me at all. He turns around and brings the tray of glasses in front of me, "Would you like a glass of champagne, miss?"

"Oh...uh," Okay, that took me by surprise.

He blinks and asks, "Or would you prefer white wine instead?"

I shake my head and mumble, "No, that's alright."

I take two glasses of the champagne and the person who I thought was Basilio ventures deeper into the crowd and disappears from my sight. Huh... I thought for sure that it was him, weird. Sheesh, I must be tired from this whole party thing. Maybe I should sit down for a bit or something.

"Is something wrong?" My eyes widen for a fraction of a second and I realize that I'm sitting beside Luce on a cushioned chair, overlooking the entire hall from the left side of the room. She's holding a glass of champagne in her hand and it doesn't seem like she drank from it. I look down at my lap and see that my glass is partially empty.

I stare at my glass, "Nah, I thought I saw someone I knew. Guess it wasn't him though."

Luce hums in comprehension, "A friend?"

"You could say that," There were a couple of drops of the alcohol left in my glass, so I twist my wrist, watching the little bit of liquid swirl around. I was entranced by it.

"You haven't known him for long?" She asks.

I shake my head in response. I couldn't help but feel miffed that my intuition was wrong, but then again, my gut feelings are always off anyway. Guess I was just imaging things. A large shadow passes over my glass and I look up to see the Basilio lookalike staring down at us.

"Excuse me for bothering you two ladies, but someone has called for your attention, miss," He motions at me with a small nod of his head, "They would like to speak with you in the courtyard."

Really, someone wanted to talk to me? I'm speechless for a second and Luce responds in my stead, "Yes, she'll be there in a moment."

"They said it was _urgent_, miss." His voice is adamant and dare I say, slightly desperate, when he stressed the word "urgent" in his sentence. Gosh, why was I honing in on his words; stupid journalism habits.

I turn to look at Luce, "I'm sorry Luce, but cou—"

There was the sound of an ear-splitting scream and Luce and I whip our head to the origin of that noise. Angry shouts rang from the crowd and a single gunshot silenced the crowd for a mere second before the angry shouts transformed into a sea of frightened wailing and screams.

That was when the great hall became a living hell.

"We must leave **now**," said the waiter, gripping tightly onto my upper arm and yanking me out of my seat. I didn't have time to yelp in pain before I was dragged off and running behind the young man. My eyes opened wide in horror as I glance back at Luce who sat calmly at her seat.

Why was she...? What the hell?

I shout out at the Basilio lookalike, "Wait, please, wait! We have to..."

But, the young man begins to sprint and I found myself struggling to keep up with him. The crowd engulfs us, surrounding us from all sides, pushing against my body in the desperate hopes of escaping with their lives. There were so many people, I couldn't see anything, and I couldn't see her anymore.

Leading me into a random hallway, the Basilio lookalike proceeds to march quickly up a flight of steps. I wrench my arm out of his grip and we both stop moving. He was standing with his back turned to me, three or four steps ahead.

My heart was thrumming in my chest and I was gaping to catch my breath. The soles of my feet hurt and I felt like ripping off my high heeled shoes where I'm pretty sure corns had begun to form. My hands are curled tightly at the sides of my body and I look up furiously at the man's backside.

I couldn't help but think back to how serene Luce looked in the face of danger. But I felt so scared for her. What happened to her? Will she be okay? I can't believe he left her there!

...I can't believe I left her there. A pang of guilt shoots up and creates a ball of pressure in my throat. My skin grows cold.

"We can't stay here," He turns to look at me with an untroubled gaze; he offers his hand out for me to take, "We have to go."

The fucking nerve of this guy! He probably lied to me to get me away from Luce. Who the hell was he? What did he want from me?

I don't reach for that hand, "I'm not moving from here until you tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"I will, just not here," He walks down a step as I do the same, "Please come with me."

"Unless you start talking, I'm not going anywhere with you." I stand my ground, planting my sore feet firmly on the step.

"AMARANTA," He yells and I flinch at the sound of my name. My heart almost jumps out of my throat and a cold sense of dread creeps over me. I stand frozen in front of him. He knows who I am. He knows my name.

...Shit.

He places his palm over his face, hiding his eyes from me and exhales shakily. Before speaking again, he slides his palm down the side of his face and apologetically looks into my eyes.

So, it really was him.

"Please, for your own protection," Basilio closes the distance between us and takes my hand.

Inhaling some air to straighten out my nerves and exhaled sharply through my nose, "I don't..."

He ignores the doubt in my voice and spoke in a pleading tone, "Trust me Amaranta."

And yet, he just seemed so sincere in that moment.

But, it was so hard to accept it. Him being here obviously meant that the Sentenza staged a, a sneak attack on the Vongola. He was probably ordered to hurt people at this party. And what did it mean for him to be here with me? I just wanted to bolt myself out of this situation and to run into the covers of my bed at home with Nonno. I wanted to be on the farm again; without any or all of…**this**.

I didn't want this.

I never wanted this.

I felt the need to cry to release all the tension in my body, but I couldn't.

I just couldn't.

…Even though I'm not the religious type, I couldn't help but think: God, please help me.

* * *

It was quiet, so very silent. Basilio walked ahead of me as we walked up another flight of stairs and into a wide corridor that could fit perhaps seven coaches, sitting beside one another, in its width. My arms wrapped around me as I trailed behind him. With every step I took, I only looked down at the maroon carpeted floor and the shine on my black shoes. Our footsteps were faint sounds, but the corridor amplified them and these sounds somehow made me feel very lonesome.

It was sudden.

A hand grabs me from behind and I let out a shriek, forcing Basilio to turn around quickly.

The hand grips my neck and painfully squeezes it; I cling to that hand and struggle to rip it off my throat. But the more I tried to break free, the tighter the hand clamped around my neck. I'm finding it hard to breathe.

Damn it.

I hear the familiar sound of a loaded gun click beside my temple.

The voice behind me is a foreign language that I don't understand. I'm not even sure what it is. The man's voice is hot against my skin, creating goosebumps covering every inch of my arms. Basilio's eyes narrow dangerously at the mysterious person behind me and responds coolly back in the same language.

The man behind me laughs as all villains seem to enjoy doing when the hero of the story confronts him and he continues to prod the nozzle of the gun against me. His voice has a taunting lilt to it as he draws his face closer to my own.

Immediately, Basilio draws a knife from behind him and aims it for the middle of the man's head. At the exact moment when the knife is thrown, the man roughly throws me against the wall as he dodges the sharp weapon that nicks his cheek.

Grinning madly, the man is of a bulky stature with dark skin and is bald with tattoos covering the majority of his face. He pulls the trigger three or four times in a row and I shudder against the wall, biting down hard on my lip to keep myself from screaming. The pain of being shoved into the wall paled in comparison to the fear in the pit of my stomach.

Basilio easily dodges the bullets and charges at the man, armed with two knives in each hand. Swinging his left arm to strike, the dark skinned man evades the blow. Rushing past me, Basilio comes close to the man, their faces almost touching and he head butts the other man who is knocked slightly off balance by the unexpected attack.

The man only laughs and shoots at Basilio again, but with a quick sweeping downward motion, Basilio deflects the two bullets aimed at his neck with the knife in his right hand. He deftly throws the knife in his left hand and runs at the man again. The man dodges the knife again and is about to shoot again, but a red light flashes from behind him.

Basilio quickly stops in his tracks and brings his right arm to block the onslaught of heat from in front of him. The dark skinned man screams in pain as he falls forward. Lowering his arm, Basilio gazes at the thin man standing before him.

It was Coyote.

He states his demand with a loud powerful voice, "Drop your weapons, boy."

Basilio stays still for a moment and drops the knife in his right hand. The metal knife fell to the floor in a loud clatter.

Four other men in black suits arrived and stood silently behind Coyote, who barked more orders at Basilio.

"Get down. Put your hands behind your head." Basilio easily lowers himself to his knees in front of Coyote. He silently places both of hands behind his head.

Coyote's four men quickly surround Basilio where one of the men clamp handcuffs to his wrists. He is roughly lifted up by another man and is forced to walk between two of those men. The others lifted up the unconscious form of my mysterious attacker and proceeded to follow behind the two men who were in charge of watching over Basilio.

I helplessly watch as Basilio was taken away and the silver haired man approached me and stood in front of me, glaring daggers. He didn't need to say anything because I got up myself with my shaken legs and trembling arms.

He walked off as soon as I got to my feet and I wordlessly followed behind him.

* * *

**Yellow-Sama says...** Thank you to **Sherbika** and some new reviewers, **roYaLAnemone11**, **My name **and **AcrobalenoLove**, for their reviews for the previous chapters. I could sit here and type out how busy I've been this semester, but I'll spare you the details. I hope that you've liked this update, and for those who are still reading this story, I cannot apologize enough to you.

Now that, that is out of the way...

_To Sherbika_, I'm sorry that I didn't take up the time to talk to you. It's been a long time. But thank you so much for the kind words and yes, I am a sucker for Reborn's curly bangs as well! It's probably too late for me to be saying this, but I hope you rocked that exam that you wrote before reading the last chapter. I also hope that you've enjoyed this new installment, I tried hard to get it up before Christmas.

_To roYaLAnemone11_, it's true Reborn does sound a lot like Hibari. Do you think it's a bad thing that he does?


	14. Chapter 13

Amid the din, it is difficult to hear anything. The cacophony of sound engulfs the silence and your eardrums are held prisoner to an endless noise. You can no longer hear my voice.

* * *

Disclaimer: Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn (along with its characters, etc) is the work of Amano Akira. Original Character(s) belong to Yellow-sama.

Song Inspiration: Home - Tablo feat Lee Sora

* * *

Like the banging of a drum played to a steady rhythm of three beats then two that repeat once the sequence is completed, Basilio stared down at the polished black shoes belonging to the leader of the organization he despised with a burning passion. He did not make any movement to stare up defiantly at the small audience of males in the room. He remained silent and calm, waiting with every breath he took.

It took everything I had to cross the doorstep into the nono's office. My trembling hands with sweaty palms and icy cold digits clench into tighter balls at the sides of my body. I couldn't swallow down the heaviness in my throat and I felt more acutely aware of my dried lips and numbed tongue. I felt nauseous.

The small click alluding to the closing of the office's door was the only sound I heard. The group of six men studied the young man sitting on his knees, head bowed down with his arms tied behind his back. He looked like he was prostrating himself on the ground, begging all that was holy for forgiveness and compassion. But, the crowd surrounding Basilio could not offer him this pardon he sought.

And that's what scared me.

He looked like he was going to breathe his last breath.

The silver haired second spoke softly into the ear of his superior. The nono's saddened countenance was unaffected by the whispered words and his eyes flickered over to meet my own. I inhaled sharply because it felt like we were the only people in the room and his eyes bore into my soul, trying to rip apart the person who is Amaranta, in order to ascertain the situation.

With every second passing in that room, I felt the blood in my cheeks draining its colour and I kept getting paler and paler. The feeling of being scrutinized is a far more painful nerve-wracking experience than being judged before the eyes of someone else. By being judged by someone else, you could sense what the other person was thinking. But, when someone is staring through you and at you at the same time, while deconstructing all the cells of your body to uncover its secrets, you were left with the unknown. Who knows what the hell they were thinking while staring at you! Their eyes focused; so deeply concentrated upon you that you cannot read the other person's thoughts from their expression which leaves you with your bare-ass naked heart on your sleeve.

The only thing I knew for sure was that Basilio was a part of the Sentenza. I didn't know how long he had been a member of the group or whether he had killed anyone, covering his hands with blood, made crooked for the sake of his own conviction. I knew about his blinding hatred toward the Mafia world and those in it. He believed that he was doing the right thing, even though the means could never hope to justify the cause. All I had were his words.

And he did save me thrice.

But was that enough for me to honestly believe that he was a good person?

No, it couldn't.

The nono breaks eye contact with me and returns his gaze to the offender in question, "What is your name?"

…Or could it?

Basilio held his tongue.

I just wasn't sure anymore.

It was quicker than my mind could process. Coyote's leg rose and kicked Basilio's chin upward with such force, Basilio's head snapped backward and there was a loud crack. I wince at the sound and I immediately thought his jaw was broken.

_A hand grabs onto the back of my hair and yanks me upward. The roots scream out in anguish and I yelp but my voice cracks. _

He didn't cry out in pain, but I could see the blank facade on his face. He bared the pain with a blackening chin, his lips and nostrils coated in red and his back laid flat on the ground. Basilio stared up at the ceiling, unmoving. I couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

_I reach my hands to release the blonde bastard's grip on me, but I can't summon up the strength. I gasp, trying to fill my lungs with air. _

"Don't forget that you are now under the mercy of the Vongola's nono, you piece of trash," Coyote peers down at him, "Answer him; now."

_But my throat constricts and the pressure which forms in my chest, forces my eyes wide open. _

I stared down at Basilio's face, watching his watery eyes cloud over, but his lips look as if they were drawn in a thin line. I knew what he was thinking. He wasn't going to speak. He was being too stubborn.

_I'm suffocating._

I couldn't help but feel tears burn at the corner of my own eyes. My vision was blurring and I bent my head low, looking away from Basilio. I couldn't stand to look at him. These tears were going to break free, I know it. I feel my shoulders trembling and my nostrils clogging up. I force down the imaginary heavy bulge in my throat and exhale deeply. I had to calm down. I had to calm down. I had to calm down.

_Chestnut brown eyes blink at me through long lashes and his brows are slightly furrowed in concern. His physical stature nearly fools me into thinking that he's a girl. His voice is faint in my ears, "Are you alright?"_

Even if he was the enemy in their eyes,he... didn't deserve this!

My knees give way and I slowly collapse to the ground, releasing a shuddered breath. I feel all their eyes on me. I gaze up into the eyes of the nono.

My voice sounds so muted in this room, "Please, don't hurt him anymore."

I feel the burn of Coyote's furious glare on me and I hear him scoff, "It was a mistake for me to bring you in here. Escort her out Schnitten."

Schnitten was a dark haired man with an X-shaped scar on his right cheek and an angular jaw; he strides over to me and grips onto my arm, but I wrench it away from him. I didn't understand how I conjured up the inner strength to do it, but I manage to glare right back at Coyote with every fiber of my being.

A burning sensation rises up and fuels me to stand up against him. He reminded me of the Sentenza and how they treated me. Was it the right thing to start defying the "good guys" in this situation? Were the Vongola the "good guys" just like how the Sentenza were the "bad guys"? What was good and what was bad? Did it matter right now in this moment? My mind was becoming muddled, but one thing was clear, I couldn't stand for the abuse Basilio was receiving.

I was becoming the star actress in the drama set before me when I shouldn't be.

I didn't understand why I felt the need to speak. I didn't understand where my sense of heroism came from. Maybe because I was feeling sympathetic since I experienced the same kind of trauma. Maybe I was being stupid. All I had were these maybes…

In my career as a journalist, my teachers told me to be wary of the media. Although journalists used it as a means to create a story, the media would love to uncover any bits of information they could grab if a journalist held a prominent role in the story. It would mar the reputation of the journalist, leaving an indelible scar. They would lose credibility, the one thing that journalists need to preserve. It didn't matter if journalists were seen as the sensationalist bastards that everyone made them out to be or any other derogatory title. They are given a paycheck to tell the truths about the world around them because that's all they had.

"He… he doesn't deserve this, this abuse," I began and I take a pause. My voice dies with the last word. They were staring at me. All of them and Coyote's eyes did not betray his annoyance.

Feigning curiosity, his eyebrows rise and left me with a sense of being mocked, "Oh? And what right do you have to say that?"

My eyes widen and his words resound in my head.

What right? What right did I have...?!

"I have no right, but neither do you." I tightly grip the black fabric of my dress between my fingers and my voice slowly regains its strength after every word I spoke. The anger I felt broiling in my blood, instigated this brashness and I didn't feel scared, I couldn't feel scared, "He's a human being which is more than I can say for you."

To my surprise, Coyote didn't react in anger. I really thought that he would be downright pissed off, but he snorts at my response instead. What the fuck did he find funny?

"Let me be clear about human beings and their so called rights, they don't apply in the Mafia world. No one is human." A small smile crosses his lips, but they don't reach his eyes burning with hard cold fury, "Every Vongola member can tell you that they have revoked their 'human rights' for the famiglia. To be called human is an insult, it's an overused overvalued term used to garner sympathy. It's a word of the weak."

"And that naivety of yours can only take you so far," Coyote continues, his eyes still boring into my own before staring down at Basilio's broken body, "Placing your trust in scum like him will only get you killed. I suggest that you smarten up."

It feels like a long while before I chose to respond to Coyote in kind. The answer was on the tip of my tongue and it felt natural to say what I did.

"You're right, I don't know much about the Mafia world and I'll never be able to fully comprehend it." I release the tension in my fingers and smooth out the crinkles in my dress.

"But as an outsider, I can't agree with what's being done here and you might not give a rat's ass about what I think. I just… I don't know if he is a good person or not, but he's done a lot for me in the same way that the Vongola has. At this point, I don't think he's done anything wrong, "I gaze down at Basilio who is looking up at me with his chestnut brown eyes, "If I can't hope to trust in someone like him, then it's even harder for me to trust in people like you of the Vongola for the exact same reason."

Coyote chuckles cruelly before his expression transformed into that of anger, "You blind fool…"

"Before we think of doing anything rash to the boy, Coyote, we should interrogate him," I didn't realize the speaker was in the room before he spoke out. Reborn was standing to the right hand side of the nono by a large bookcase and a vase of white lilies.

Coyote looks over his shoulder at the Vongola's nono for a response.

"We need his word as evidence after all," Reborn gazed downward at the carpeted ground and over to Basilio.

The nono nods at Reborn's advice, "Of course. Visconti."

Coyote's displeased expression on his face was enough to make me feel pleased with myself. I had to give it to Reborn though… even if this small attempt to save Basilio was only a temporary solution. I felt relieved, for now.

"After deliberation from Visconti, the Vongola will decide what to do with the affiliate of the Sentenza," The nono announced.

Visconti was a man with a squared jaw, slicked back hair and a growing beard; he approached Basilio and gripped him by the collar, picking him up singlehandedly from the carpeted office floor. Basilio bent his knees which allowed him to push off the ground and onto his feet. Visconti exits the office with Basilio in tow with Schnitten, Coyote, and the two other nameless men in the room.

As Basilio passed me by to enter the hallway, I see him mouthing a word to me, 'thanks'.

That left me alone with the Vongola's nono and Reborn. Pushing the ground with my arms, I lifted my body up with the help of my heeled feet. But an open palmed hand makes itself known in my line of vision and I look up to see Reborn offering me his hand.

Wordlessly, I accepted the sentiment and then dusted off the sides of my dress with my hands.

Reborn looks over to the nono, "We'll be taking our leave now, nono."

The leader of the great mafia family nods in acknowledgement then walks behind his desk, and sits on his chair.

I follow behind Reborn but am stopped by the nono himself, "Ms. Russo."

I turn around to give him my full attention.

"Return here tomorrow."

I bow my head and exit the room, closing the door behind me.

Reborn turns left down the hallway and I follow behind him. If I had to lower my head to him in thanks, then I guess today was going to be one of those days. I lick my upper lip and before I could even speak, he said to me, "Even though I intervened, that small attempt has little effect on what the Vongola has planned for that boy."

Oh.

…So, was it all in vain then?

I didn't want to know the answer to my question, but I still felt that the question had to be made, "What will happen to him?"

"What do you think will happen?" Reborn walks down a case of stairs and I look at his back, still standing at the top step. I don't say anything.

"If they're kind, he'll be killed," Reborn places his hands in his pockets as he stands at the bottom of the staircase, "What they'll most likely do is toy with the boy, extract all the information they can and dispose of everyone he loves."

I take a sharp intake of breath when Reborn makes this next comment, "They'll force him to watch every little moment until the end. He'll wish he were dead."

_He'll wish he were dead._

I shakily made my way down the stairs, tightly gripping onto the cold black banister but I feel my hand is slipping. I take a pause on the fifth step and lean against the banister for support. I bow my head down so that the end of my chin touches my collar bone. Taking a long deep breath, I exhale slowly from my nose and the last of my breath exits from my lips. I feel my shoulders relaxing, releasing the tension from the back of my neck.

But, I still felt anxious.

I continue the walk down the stairs and pass through two doors and make a right, then left turn. I trail behind Reborn now. We were at least five steps apart.

Basilio...

I tried to clear my thoughts, but I couldn't. I failed to make my case in the nono's office. I couldn't save him like he did for me. Now, he would either die swiftly or suffer through hell, begging for death to take him.

* * *

Shutting the door behind me, Reborn walks into the kitchen area and I hear the sink running water. I remain standing at the doorway. I notice that he walks over to me with a glass of water and forces the glass into my hands. It's cold on my hot skin.

"Calm down your nerves and get some sleep," He strides over to his own room, "you'll need the rest."

Hearing the door to his bedroom shut closed; I take a sip of the water. The refreshing taste doesn't make me feel any better. I down the rest of the liquid, tilting my head back so that I could gulp it quick. I exhale, placing the empty glass on the counter. I drag my feet towards the makeshift guest bedroom, ignoring the little voice in my head that was telling me to go and wash the cosmetic products off my face. I felt too mentally exhausted to honestly give a fuck.

It's a small comfy little room that was next door to Reborn's study. I don't bother flicking open the lights and I don't bother changing into my regular sleeping wear that constituted of a large white t-shirt that draped over my whole body and a pair of thin dark grey three quarter pants. Hell, I don't even close the door of my room, leaving it open a crack and letting a little breeze in.

I kick off the black high heels into a random corner of the room, beside a light brown wooden chair where I draped a dark blue cardigan and other miscellaneous clothing on top of one another. Slipping my fingers underneath the folds of the black dress, I tug my skin toned panty hose off my legs, nearly ripping a hole or two in them. Fuck, I didn't want to buy another pair.

Reaching behind by bending my arm at the elbow, I pull down the little zipper that was sewn on the back of the dress, wiggling myself out of the dress. The fabric pools onto the ground and I step out of the dress in my bra and panties. I'm tempting to just strip myself down to nothing, but I'm too lazy to even do that. I pull the clips from my hair, letting the long curls bounce freely before landing on my shoulder blades. Stretching my arms behind me, I arch my back and topple backwards onto my bed.

Shit.

I stare up at the ceiling of the dark room and I spot a spider crawling towards the window of the room. I watch its tiny spindly legs carrying its equally small body race across the ceiling, entering a little crack underneath the window pane and disappearing into the night.

I roll onto my side, burying my face into the sheets of my bed. My hair falls into the side of my face and I blow the random strands away, letting them fall where they did.

Soon enough, I closed my eyes and let myself fall where I did.

"Ey mia bambina, finally come for ah visit, eh?" My grandfather's stern countenance melded away to reveal a wide grin. I stared at his familiar figure staring at me from the doorstep of my only home. It was just the same as I remembered it with its thick red roof, crumbly brick walls and greenery surrounding it on all sides. "Well, ah whattah yah standin' round for? Come give yah nonno a hug!"

I run up the steps of the little two story house and enter his warm embrace. His long arms wrap themselves snuggly around my waist and I bury my head in his neck, inhaling his natural greasy sweaty scent. It used to gross me out ever since I was younger. To be covered from head to toe in sweat and dirt from working hard and running to and fro in the field out back, those days seem so long and far away. I hated working on the farm, waking such early mornings until late at night to tire out my arms and legs to the point where I couldn't even move them anymore. I missed it. I missed home.

"I'm home," I whisper into the shell of his ear. I could feel his grin falter a bit, and a little tear pricks the side of my face.

Grabbing my suitcase from out of my hands, nonno pulls himself away first, trying to regain his 'manly' composure. He lifted the suitcase, nearly dropping it, "Fuck mia bambina, the hell'sah in this damn thing? Is it yur whole fuckin' apartment?"

I fight back a smile and I stay there on the porch for a second longer. Taking in the full view of the countryside that I left behind for the city with its rolling hills and vast spaces of green, trees and wide blue sky were all things that I rarely ever saw in the city. I guess it as because I was mostly hauling my ass everywhere that I never got to stand in one place to enjoy the scenery. It made my heart feel lighter and before I can spout anymore clichéd bullshit, I felt so comfortable. I spot the grove of fruit bushes and trees in the distance, recalling the small adventures I would take on with the other kids in the area. I think my favorite game was playing hide and seek because I was small enough to dart into the bushes for safety. I was the best at hiding away from the others and no one would ever find where I was until my grandmother would call us away for a picnic lunch.

I guess that never really changed when I got into the city. I kept a small profile and worked hard to get what I wanted. I never spoke back to my superiors; I accepted everything that was thrown at me with a bitten tongue. I landed the job of my dreams only to find that it was more complicated than what I initially imagined it to be. But then, nothing in life is ever exactly how we imagined it. I felt comfortable, but not wholly satisfied with my life in the city. Maybe being a journalist wasn't the right job for me, but then… what could I have done instead? Stayed on the farm with my nonno and take over it once he passed on? It would have been the easier thing to do.

"Get in an' ah put back yah shit!" My nonno's booming voice calls for me inside of the house. I let out a loud snort and shout back a "Yeah, I'm coming."

I pass through the doorway of the house and I feel this sudden coldness clench itself around my throat. The house is silent. I hear the ticking of the clock in the kitchen and nothing more. My feet cross the threshold and I enter the living room, but no one is there to greet me.

I call out, "Nonno? Nonno, where'd you go?"

I walk out of the living room and head towards the bedrooms up on the second floor, thinking that he was relaxing in his room after lugging that huge suitcase of my own into my room. Walking toward the door to my left, I knock on the door and notice that the door was already open. I push it aside and see the figure in the black suit standing in front of the open window. I recognize his sunken dark purple flesh where red begins to bleed through, his gaunt blank eyes staring into my own face. What the hell was he doing here? He takes a careful step forward and then another, attempting to slowly close the distance between us. I immediately pull back and shut the door of my grandfather's room closed. I race down the stairs without looking back.

"Nonno? Nonno?! Where are you? Answer me!" I scream, rushing outside. I yank open the front door and head out into the light.

But the world turns black before me and my mind doesn't compute this abrupt change.

Sitting limply in a metal chair, Basilio's head lolls to the side and blood covers the entire lower half of his face and stains his shirt. A hand pulls a dark cloth bag over his head and I hear the cock of a gun pressed against the back of his head.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

_You know that it's your fault that he's going to die. _

No. No. No.

_It's sad really. You're so pathetic that you couldn't even save him. _

PLEASE.

_Now he's dead. _

I will my legs to move forward, but I can't move from my spot. I'm frozen. I open my mouth, but no sound passes through.

Oh dear god.

_And you'll be next. _

I close my eyes once the gunshot resounds painfully in my head.

And all I could do was pitifully curl myself up and cry.

Footsteps approach me from the front and my eyes look up to see Reborn's emotionless face. His cold gun cocked to the front of my head, "The nono decided that you're useless to keep around."

There is another click.

* * *

**Yellow-Sama says...** I'm trying my best to update as much as I can during this winter break. I don't know if this will heavily affect my writing quality and if it does, then I greatly apologize for it. I want to thank **AcrobalenoLove** and **Guest** for the reviews and everyone else who is still reading this story of mine. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I'll keep doing my best!


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